There Are Few Things Tea and Cuddles Can't Fix
by EscapetheBoundsofReality
Summary: A Soft Cuddle Filled Fic w/ Sick Avengers and Bucky being the Sweet Cinnamon Roll Soldier he is at heart. AU during a time where our heroes get a much needed break between Civil and Infinity War. Slow Burn- Bucky and Natasha, but includes adorable/funny moments with most of the Avengers. (Tony-Peter-Steve- Sam-Pep-Clint-Etc.) Vantage Point Universe.
1. Chapter 1

Bucky reclined lazily sprawled across the common room's couch, as he participated in his new favorite sport. Tony defined it as channel surfing, and at this rate he would give himself a solid ten for form. He had happily sat through twelve hours of total mind numbing garbage without interruption.

He was thankful Steve, Natasha and Vision happened to be on missions, the rest were at Clint's farm, and that Bruce and Tony hadn't poked their heads out of their laboratory gopher holes in several days. The TV's volume was blaring at an unholy level while he watched another famous James in the classic _Rebel Without A Cause. _While chowing down on a delicious hot and cold mixture of ham and cheese wrapped in fluffy heaven, the elevator dinged its arrival.

He held his breath and prayed it wasn't Steve. Not that he didn't love and miss the guy when he was gone, but he really didn't want to suffer through the eyebrows of disappointment. Undoubtedly he would have to clean up his mess, get some actual sleep, and do a double insanity workout to make up for the last couple of days. Thankfully a fuzzy blanket wrapped redhead shuffled out of the elevator instead. He let out a sigh of relief returning back to the movie.

"God Barnes can you turn that down ?"she asked clearly annoyed.

He rolled his eyes but acquiesced.

"You know I was here first Romanoff? When did you get back anyways?"

She went straight to the kitchen behind him and began rummaging through cabinets. He glanced over the back of the couch to watch her. She found the ingredients she wanted and begin to make a concoction of vodka, honey, lemon and green tea. She put the tea kettle on before answering.

"Umm I got back 2 days ago," she mumbled.

Bucky took in her appearance. The woman looked worse for wear. She had her fire red hair pulled back in a messy bun. Baby hairs were plastered to her forehead with cold sweat, and her perfect alabaster skin was faintly tinted green.

"So you came back Tuesday?"

She snuggled further into the blanket shivering slightly.

"Hmm? No Sunday night. Clint hung back at home after the mission."

"Natasha today's Thursday," he informed her.

Her eyes widened slightly at that. That's when Bucky realized she was more than just "out of it". She was sick. So sick she had lost count of the days she'd been home.

He muted the T.V. "Hey, you feeling alright? "

"I'm fine," she murmured halfheartedly.

"Really? Because its seventy-nine degrees in here and you're wearing four layers of clothes and two blankets."

After being frozen and thawed like eggo waffles Steve and Bucky kept their flats above seventy-five at all times. The common room floor had the second biggest kitchen and was equipped with the best theater system (besides the actual theater room of course) in the tower. On having the whole thing to himself the past couple of days, it had stayed a toasty eighty degrees.

Natasha's blood ran unusually hot he supposed, because her penthouse always felt like a tundra in comparison. This made it even more worrisome that she now stood shivering more than an abused chihuahua on a snow day. With one arm he propelled himself over the back of the couch, and made his way over to her.

" I said I'm fine, "she repeated glaring at his approach and daring him to question her again.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine if you say so... Friday?"

She gave a grunt of indignation but could do nothing to intervene as the A.I gave a precise rundown of how she was really doing. A subtle green light cast a distinct grid pattern down the length of her body. It took less than 3 seconds before Friday rattled off her findings.

"Ms. Romanov is currently running a temperature of 103.2, and is experiencing high levels of congestion along with severe coughing fits and a runny nose. Observation would also conclude she is having chills and cold sweats as side effects," she concluded.

"Hmm would you look at that? Not so fine after all are we?" Bucky mused.

Natasha rolled her eyes an action that seemed to hurt her more than she let on.

"Never had a little cold before Barnes?" She taunted pouring the steaming cup of water into a

black mug labeled world cutest assassin.

He pulled a bottle of Gatorade out if the fridge beside her attempting to be casual.

"Oh yeah totally, just not the kind that made me look like the walking dead."

She ignored the jab putting the cup to her cracked lips carefully .They both sipped in silence. She savored the scalding hot concoction, even curling her toes at the spreading warmth throughout her body. Now being only a couple feet away from her, he saw the cloudiness of her usually sharp eyes. Her movements that were usually quick and precise were instead slow and almost sluggish. This was not good. He was about to suggest visiting Bruce. When the good doc himself strolled in carrying a medical bag. He looked a bit disheveled as he always did when he worked on a project for days straight. It was truly impeccable timing. Natasha slammed her mug against the counter sloshing scalding water everywhere.

" So what you tattled on me?! God how old are you?"

Bucky put his hands up in defense.

"Hey don't look at me," he retorted.

"Please Ms. Romanov do not be upset with Sgt. Barnes," a sharp toned Irish voice interrupted from above, " unfortunately it's in my protocol to alert Doctor Banner when someone in the tower has fallen ill."

"Friday told me a couple of days ago actually. I tried to make a house call, but somebody didn't answer," Bruce said pointedly.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I've been taking something for it. I just need to sleep it off so don't worry about little ole me."

She waved away the concerned looks directed to her. Bruce put his bag on the counter between them and began to rummage through it.

"I might believe you. If you were actually getting better. Your temperature is way too high. It doesn't seem like whatever you're taking is doing the trick. What are you taking by the way?" He asked putting on a stethoscope.

She rattled off the drug's long complicated name.

"Let me guess self prescribed?" Bruce challenged.

Again all he got was a shoulder shrug.

"I've had a cold before Bruce. I've been my own doctor more than once," she answered.

"Yeah sure 'Doctor', it's the flu by the way antibiotics won't do the trick"

"What was that?" Bucky questioned.

"Nat most likely has the flu, antibiotics won't help. We won't know until the test comes back though," he implied said test by handing her an extremely long q-tip.

Bucky grimaced in her behalf. She backed away from both the q-tip and the stethoscope coming her way.

"C'mon Nat don't be stubborn! If you would've done this three days ago it wouldn't be this bad," Bruce chastised her but didn't move any closer. She was one step away from bolting, and they could both see that.

"Don't touch me with that thing," she ordered.

Bruce slid the glasses off his nose and carefully rubbed the lenses between his thumb and index finger. He looked through them at an angle just to make sure before adding," You know after all the things that could've killed you wouldn't it be pathetic if the flu was what got you in the end."

"Just tragic," Bucky chimed in.

The other two ignored him in favor of having an epic stare down with each other.

"It's not flu season," she challenged.

"That's true, but the whole Barton family came down with a nasty strain of it, and if you were there for a couple of days most likely you have it too," he answered holding out the q-tip again.

"We have to know what it is to treat it correctly or you won't get better," he warned.

She sighed taking it then twisting it between her fingers.

"Up in your nasal cavity as far as you can."

Without flinching or breaking eye contact she did as told making Bucky gag in response. Bruce placed the q-tip in a clear plastic cylinder to examine it later.

"I'm pretty sure about the results on this thing so I'm going to prescribe you a different type of medicine, and something for the pain take both every 6 hours with food understood?"

"Yes."

"Have you been drinking plenty of liquids?"

She held up her hot toddy in response.

"That doesn't count."

"Yes I have been drinking fluids mother."

"What about eating ?"

"Three balanced gourmet meals a day," she lied.

"Fine I'm going to check in on you tomorrow. Don't take that pain medicine with alcohol. Answer the door or the other guy will break it down got it?"

"That's a little extreme don't you think?"

"With a fever of 103? No it's not. Don't try me Romanov," he taunted gathering his things together. "I better get back down to the lab before Tony blows it up... Again."

On cue a suspiciously loud rumble sent vibrations from the floor below.

"Ugh I told him to wait that egotistical mani...", Bruce cursed under his breath and ran back into the elevator. Over his shoulder he told her to feel better before disappearing behind the silver sliding panels.

Natasha put the pill bottles in the pocket of her sweatpants and begin to shuffle out of the room.

"Hey, have you gone food shopping since you've been back," Bucky asked nonchalantly.

"No if you hadn't heard I'm deathly ill why?"

"That's what I thought. You're a total liar," he said chugging the rest of his Gatorade.

She cocked her head to the side with curiosity. "Well it's always been in my job description so you'll have to be a little more specific".

"I happened to have raided the fridges of everyone who was gone this past week. All that was left in your fridge was a bottle of ranch and some stale tortilla chips. Scratch that. I ate those. So yeah, just the ranch. Which means unless you ordered take out you haven't been eating,".

He was pretty sure he saw the flash of a knife under her igloo of blankets.

"You were in my house? " she seethed.

"Yeah Clint gave me the vent tour. I can get anywhere without tripping alarms now," he answered proudly, "Anyways enough about me, you haven't been eating."

Deciding to ignore him she tugged the blankets around her tighter, turned and headed back to her floor. She swayed a bit as she went. As much as he was enjoying his lazy marathon of awesomeness, something about the way she steadied herself against the wall made her look so small and helpless that he had to help. Small and helpless was not who she was. He wanted her back to her normal emasculating self asap. That shivering snotty mess before him was downright unsettling.

"Natasha let me make you something," he suggested.

She waved him off.

" I'll just throw it up Barnes it's fine," she murmured all the venom her voice along with said knife was then gone.

"C'mon if you take that stuff on an empty stomach it'll be worse. I can doctor up a few cans of

Campbell's soup what'd ya say?"

"Or you can just toss me a can, and I'll make it at my place."

"You and I both know you won't though. So I'll do it. Sit down."

He gestured to the stool in front of the marble table top. Friday told him exactly where the cans of chicken noodle soup were kept. He pulled some ingredients from the freezer then popped off the lids of concentrated soups. The thick chicken concoction slid slowly and slimily out of the tin cans landing with a wet squelch at the bottom of the pot. Nat wrinkled her nose at the sight, it was enough to make her stomach turn.

"Hey don't make that face all it needs is a little love and..," Bucky squinted closely at the directions, "..three cups of water, but we'll make that four"

He put the soup to boil after stirring in the four cups of water and two cups of chicken broth. He chopped up carrots, celery, and grilled chicken he had pulled from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave to soften before also adding them to the mix. He went through the spice rack and chose the garlic, onion, cayenne pepper and salt for flavoring. He mixed them all together before letting it simmer for several long minutes. Natasha watched him carefully with her profile pressed against the cool surface of the table.

"I thought Steve was the one who cooked?" She mused.

He feigned hurt with his palm against his shirt.

"That punk? Where do you think he learned it from?"

"Fair enough,"

After 15 minutes of comfortable silence he did a taste test by shoving a spoonful of the soup in his mouth He gave it a thumbs up and handed her a bowl. She sat up but didn't touch the spoon. Bucky pretended not to notice instead making a bowl of his own. He watched her blankly stare at the swirling grey steam coming off the tops of their meals.

Taking a spoonful out of her bowl, he tried it.

"Nope, it's perfect. I have no idea why you aren't eating this delicious meal that the notorious soldier of legend has sacrificed to make you out of the kindness of his heart," he exclaimed, trying to mimic Thor's accent.

There was no response, not even the twitch of a smile. That's when it dawned on him.

"Hey Friday do you have anything for nausea?" He asked over his shoulder.

The A.I rattled off a number of names and medicines. He remembered Steve's mom always giving them ginger tea for the stomach aches and it had always helped. He put the electric kettle on and pulled the tea bags and honey out of a drawer. As soon as the kettle started whistling, he poured the bowling water in a red mug and began to stir. He slid the bowl away from her and replaced it with the hot drink.

"There's no vodka in this one but it will settle your stomach," he murmured quietly.

He looked away pretending not to observe her tentative sips. After awhile she gathered to bowl back to her and began to eat. He grinned internally, but didn't show it one or another. Instead he used his 20/25 vision to read the subtitles of the movie she had interrupted. When their spoons began to scrape the bottom, he asked to see her medication. She looked quizzically at him but handed them over.

"Well you're not supposed to take it on an empty stomach so checkmate on that and we are adding ginger tea to that prescription and done."

He finished tapping out the large purple and blue pills into her hand along with a glass of water.

She swallowed them swiftly and winced slightly at the pain in her throat.

"Thanks for dinner Barnes."

"Of course what are friends for?" he answered casually trying to catch line of dialogue as it faded from the television screen 20 feet away.

That's when the mood shifted from slightly uncomfortable to having as much tension as one of her famous swinging light bulbs in a dark room interrogations.

She leaned forward. "Are we friends?"

His focus snapped back to the woman sitting across from him, wondering what had changed so drastically with those five words.

"I don't know. Are we?" he hesitantly articulated .

"I asked first. "

He shrugged.

"We're part of a team. The team looks out for each other right?"

"There's a difference between me making sure you don't get a bullet to the face, and us being friends "

"Well i consider anyone that blocks a bullet for me a friend wouldn't you?"

She shifted in her seat.

"I don't know. I mean Banner and Tony, they're friends outside of missions. You, Steve and Sam too."

"Hey I hate Sam!" he denied with adamance waving his hands in the air.

"You love him don't lie," she laughed at his mock horror. He was glad to finally see her smile.

"Fine, " he admitted, "I do but he'll never know it the chocolate bastard. Well, what about you and the Bartons ?"

" I think Clint is the only one thats stupid enough to try with me, Laura has too big of a heart for abandoned strays, and the kids take after their parents. They want me to be changed person, someone they trust, someone they love but the day will come when they realize what I really am and run away like any normal person would."

She shrugged it off in quiet acceptance that her loss of them would be inevitable. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed. They were both master manipulators and he had seen people on the receiving end of her mind games. He looked for any of the tells that would point to him "being played" as Sam would put it, but all he saw was honest curiosity and maybe a bit of sadness in the way her eyes stayed on the table instead of him.

Maybe she really didn't believe that anyone in their right mind would help her without motive or call her a friend without fear and a string attached. It was an easy misconception. He thought of all the innocent lives and horribleness that had come at the end of his triggers, and because of it he questioned Steves sanity no less than hundred times a day. His best friend had read Bucky's files. He watched blood curling footage, and saw the passive dead look that rested only with the Winter Soldier when he, without emotion, took innocent lives.

However, when they walked between the old orange and red brick buildings spray painted with unspoken stories of a new generation or listened to the crunch of glass from long broken windows beneath their shoes in Brooklyn, Steve would sling a comforting arm over Bucky's shoulder, not unlike he used to do decades ago when Steve was the smaller one.

Steve Rogers never complained about having black eyes or his windpipe crushed after dredging him from horrific nightmares at two in the morning. Sam wasn't much different. The falcon could be annoying as hell, but Buck knew he was a good man. After he was forgiven for the brainwashing and the whole 'I ripped the steering wheel out of your car' event. (Sam had made a spoof to I Bust the Windows Out Your Car. Check it out on Spotify. ) He had decided not to even read Bucky's files all together. According to him all that mattered was the man Barnes was now . That's the man he'd get to know and obviously spend every waking moment annoying.

The team as a whole had given him a second chance. A chance that he didn't deserve. They treated him as if Hydra had never happened, as if he'd never fallen from that train all those years ago. He would never be the same, but thanks to Shuris technology and his recovery in Wakanda he was cleared to come back to the tower, to a team, and more unexpectedly to a family. All his memories of Hydra, their training, and torture had been erased. He had a clean slate a fresh start and all the time in the world to rebuild himself. Guilt would hang over his head forever, but he was just a weapon. The beliefs of Hydra were never his own. Buck was still buried somewhere deep down and with the help of those around him he was slowly getting the chance to uncover him. Things between him and Tony were awkward sometimes. He reminded him so much of Howard. They had a heart to heart (shed some tears) and every day it got a bit easier to be around each other. He'd been adopted by the Clint and Parker families, to the point where he was now Uncle Buck. Everyone had found a way to weasel into a heart that he had thought would forever stay broken.

Words were not enough to repair what they had given him. So he was ready to make the sacrifice play in any situation. He didn't deserve a life outside of what Hydra had made him become. So if he could sacrifice that life in place of someone who really deserved another twenty years he would do it, no questions asked. Not to be judged on a past he had no control over was one of the greatest gifts the team had given him and he would do anything to return that gift even if he had to do it individually. That night happened to be Tasha's turn for reprisal. Surprisingly battlefield nor bullet was involved.

"No. They would never run away. None of us do. Because besides the fact that everyone here is certifiably insane, we never give up. Especially on each other."

She was quiet for a long time before simply retorting that he sounded like T'challa.

"And I will take that as one of the biggest compliments I've ever gotten thank you," he beamed mirroring said king by giving a small bow.

She had flagrantly disregarded Bruce's orders to not to mix the pain meds and alcohol. The tension she was holding in her shoulders lessened and she rested her face between her palms as the alcohol melted into her bloodstream.

She didn't make another attempt to leave so Bucky poured the leftover water from the kettle into her cup, and stayed where he was on the other side of the tabletop with elbows resting on the salt and pepper granite beneath him. She moved the spoon around in slow circles.

"I don't think it's in the cards for me Barnes," she sighed.

He waited for her to continue.

"The whole team, family love dynamic etc.," she mused. "I mean I told Banner how I felt about him and he was on the next flight back to India. He went dark for 8 months before Tony dug him out of hiding. Running away literally wasn't fast enough,"

Bucky interrupted her by putting his hand up.

" Wait, wait, you mean _Bruce Banner_? Like the Bruce Banner? The one who is just here Bruce Banner ? The nerdy guy, glasses, crazy hair, in love with Tony, turns into a big green crazy guy that Bruce Banner?"

"Yes that Bruce. He is a good man," she defended.

"No he is a_ great _man nobody's debating that but I mean.."

He air motioned a hand a hand up and down her body expressing how attractive she was.

Of course Bruce was downright handsome, but Tasha was in a whole different league of beautiful, not to mention the polar opposite personalities.

"Hmm..Maybe I do stand a chance at finding love in this life. If Bruce could get someone like her to fall for him Hulk and all, maybe some cute dame could look past the metal arm and senior citizen status," he thought to himself.

"Love is unpredictable and impartial," she stated simply.

"Yeah but have ya seen Steve? I mean is tall blonde and righteous just not your type?"

"I think he's already taken..."

That stopped his tirade cold. Steve hadn't mentioned anyone since Peggy. He kissed Sharon, but come on, that was more of a thank you for not turning us in peck. Bucky would definitely have to get more information. Of course he was going to give him a hell of a lot of teasing, but he thought they told each other everything. He watched as Natasha hid her smirk by bringing the cup to her lips.

"Hey wait are you talking about me?" Bucky exclaimed.

She shrugged her shoulders."You are really close,"

"Yeah like brothers not love...I'm not even finishing the sentence it's not like that! Do people think that?!"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know maybe a few...million ?" she smiled coyly.

"Uggggh, fine unbelievable! Remind me to find a girl to kiss at the next press conference."

"Will do. There's a nice girl I know. How do you feel about piercings? "

"I'm not ready for that."

"Aww neither was your boyfriend."

"What?!"

"Nothing," she teased.

"Anyways...anyways.. anyways this is off topic. Natasha you're already part of this family. I've seen it. The Bartons are loving not ignorant. They see you for everything you are and still want you. The kids think the world of you and not because your some super cool spy, but because you're their super cool aunt that's insanely good with water guns. You watch Clint's back and bring him home every single week. When Pep's gone you're the only one she trusts to make sure Tony sleeps and eats every day even if you have to use your widow bites. It's you who runs or spars with Stevie at three a.m when he can't sleep. The Bruce thing well...he's kind of an odd ball anyway, but I can see he really cares about you. He risked Tony blowing up the lab tonight just to make sure you were okay, and those are just a few examples. I don't talk to you much, but I watch. I observe. This is your family."

It was in her training see the worst in everything and everybody, analyze and then destroy it. When she looked at herself it was no different only seeing the black, and the bleak, and the horrible. She assumed that's what everyone else saw too, if not it was just a matter of time. She tried her best to stay close and not let who she was manifest itself in the present. The team, the tower, and SHIELD all made up her safe haven.

Hearing snapshots of her life from Bucky's viewpoint soothed something in her soul. His rich deep voice coupled with earnest baby blue eyes added to the calm and made her think of the possibility of his theory. Maybe she was already part of this group and not just on the outside looking in. She really had tried her best to be there for everyone. Her sole goal to be the person they saw the potential of her being. The endeavor never eased horrible sensation that the whole was just a facade and could shatter at any moment. Knowing that someone had seen her efforts bloomed something warm and tingly inside her chest. At least she thought it was the realization that did it. It could've been the loosening of the horrible congestion, but either way the feeling was a good one.

"Maybe,"she whispered suddenly wanting to change the subject. She peeked at the screen to the right them finally taking an interest in what Bucky had been watching before.

"_Rebel Without a A Cause _th at's a good one," she commented moving to the couch. Her nose wrinkled as unidentified bags of popcorn or pop tarts that crumpled and crunched beneath her feet as she made her way to the couch. She threw him a sour look.

"I'll clean it up before mother hen gets back I promise."

She moved even more trash out her way as she created a perfect little nest of blankets (just like Clint had taught her) smack dab in the middle of the couch. Bucky washed the dishes,and put the leftover ingredients back in the fridge before joining her.

Two hours and six bags of kettle corn later, they sat watching as long strands of blonde hair floated in the wind while the actor intently watched the car of his rival plummet over a cliff. The bottle of vodka had been moved from the kitchen and was now tucked between them and the couch cushions. Their tea bags floated and bobbed almost happily in more alcohol than tea.

"That is one good looking man," Bucky stated offhandedly refilling his mug.

"You see that? _That _is why people say the things they do,"

"What, you mean I can't compliment another man?"

"I'm just saying it starts rumors."

"It's not even an opinion. The guy's a masterpiece. I'm just stating facts! Forgive me for being honest! "

She gave him only a cheeky grin as a response. That started the conversation about the actors untimely death. Natasha informed him that the car crash was a front and instead he had become one of SHIELD best undercover agents. After the love of his life married someone else, the american heartthrob was suicidal. Fury intervened, gave him ticket out of fame, and in turn gained a protege. Bucky was floored and Natasha was breathless. She hadn't talked that much in days, and her respiratory began to violently protest it. It was hard to listen to.

"Natasha maybe you should go to bed. Friday can wake you up when it's time for your medicine again."

"Trying to get rid of me already?"

"Nope not at all. Just tryna help doll."

"You can turn the sound up in that case...doll."

He should've given her another budge to her bedroom, but something told him if he did he wouldn't see her for awhile. For some reason that thought bothered him. He and Natasha didn't spend much time together. The woman emitted the same vibe you would get when stepping from the warmth of your cozy home into the frigid cold of a damp New York Monday morning. It wasn't entirely welcoming. He was used to the Black Widow in all her cold icy perfection. A woman who always kept the real Natasha hidden somewhere very deep where no one could hurt her. Usually it took years of trust for that side to surface.

It seemed the combination flu, pain meds and half of a bottle of russian vodka had sped things up a bit. It humanized her. Even more strange was the presence of familiarity as they sat there side by side. Something tugged on the strings of a buried memory, but he couldn't quite pull it to the fore of his mind.

Instead he did as was told and Friday dimmed the lights. Her shivering had calmed but he slipped off his black hoodie for her anyways. He handed it over without fanfare. She tucked herself inside of it without looking at him and a soft thank you. They settled into a comfortable silence only broken by gentle reminders to drink water and kleenex refills. They sat through the next 1 1/2 movies of their impromptu J.D marathon, before her body's' fight made it impossible to stay awake. She turned to him abruptly, cocking her head to the side like a predator watching its prey. Then without warning she stretched and settled her purple felt covered toes to one end of the couch and laid her head in his lap on the other end . Bucky startled minutely at the unexpected closeness but quickly adjusted himself setting his feet atop the coffee table.

"Feel better," he whispered softly.

"Barnes ?"

"Yeah?"

"Your arm is freezing."

He quickly moved it the back of the couch to avoid contact.

"No it felt nice. Helps bring down the fever I guess," she trailed off finally letting the drugs take her under completely.

Placing a cold metal palm across her forehead then massaged his fingers through her hair. She leaned into the touch subconsciously. He kept up motion for a while hoping to calm the shaking that was still causing her teeth to chatter together. She mumbled sporadically in her sleep. He thought it was adorable. What wasn't adorable was the fever that was most likely inducing said mumbling. He felt the unusual heat radiating from her and began to doubt that the meds were doing their seemed to sense his curiosity and displayed another analysis of her condition. It wasn't great. Everything was still pretty much the same with the fever only dropping two degrees. Bucky peeled a few blankets off the top part of her chest and cooled the room down considerably hoping that would help.

Friday displayed a countdown of two hours before her next dosage. He settled in for the wait, turning the T.V back on subtitle mode. Somewhere between the poor misfit son jumping on a train and him finally meeting his estranged mother, Buck fell asleep too.


	2. Chapter 2

**No spoilers but Endgame took me on a roller coaster of emotions. It made me want to finish this story even more because Natasha was even more lovely and hardcore than I remember. This story has been sitting on my hard drive for months, and editing it takes forever, so I apologize for the mistakes I don't catch. Thanks for the follows and favorites! I know my writing is rough around the edges, but that's what practice is all about right? **IsChickenRoastedOrToasted ** Aww..You made my week ! **

**I really hope you enjoy this next bit. xoxo**

**Chapter 2.**

Her eyes shot open as they did most nights. It wasn't unusual for her to wake in a cold sweat or for her heart to race and pound to the point of it being painful. The four and half seconds it took for her to figure out where she was and if she was safe, caused more fear induced adrenaline than most people would experience in a lifetime. Sights bloody and gruesome, some imagined, some real. Some that resonated from her time in the Red Room and others from her time with SHIELD. All of them inspired these tortuous nightmares from hell. On the other hand it might not be a nightmare at all.

She had awoken many times in the freezing wet, and putrid black cells of her enemies. For the most part she was exactly where she wanted to be in order to manipulate the situation. However, there had also been times where coms were down, and missions had gone terribly wrong. At least SHIELD cared about getting it's agents back at any cost. The Red Room valued her, but if it were between protecting themselves and her, the choice would be simple. The cause was worth more than the life of one woman. She had been on her own. Failure had been a very possible option. She had stared death in the face many times, and every time she escaped it, had only made the lingering presence of it's possibility that much stronger in her subconscious.

The ritual began. She felt for the knife strapped to her left ankle with the sole of her right foot, then fingertips brushed the small pistol strapped to her thigh and next the blades tucked in her bra. Tony had made her widow bites inconspicuous and wearable at all times and they were as they should be. The fear subsided further upon recognizing the ceiling which had a faint neon gold and red strip of light that signaled Friday's presence. She was safe.

What she was still fuzzy on was the fact of why her body felt wrecked. She had felt better under some instances of torture than she felt at that moment. Her head was spinning, her bones aching, along with a tongue that felt swollen and dry against the roof of her mouth. When she swallowed her throat felt like it was set afire, with her stomach churning something awful causing waves of nausea.

She had fallen asleep against the frigid linoleum of her bathroom floor the past couple of days and wasn't surprised at the thought it had happened again. Now she felt she needed to start the slow crawl of death towards the toilet bowl before her and dinner had an ugly reunion.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and came face to face with the Winter Soldier. Her heart stopped, but this not the soldier she once knew. No, that man had been torn and ripped out bit by bit with Wakandan tech and therapy, allowing James Buchanan Barnes to slowly take his rightful place in the mindfulness of his body.

In all truthfulness however, Natasha was more comfortable with the солдат. He was predictable. He followed orders. He felt nothing neither fear nor love nor loss. That crafted warrior had been her role model in the Red Room and later, for a time, her partner in the field. He was the one she trusted, and he was the one she had fallen in love with once upon a lifetime ago. Now, she watched from the sidelines as he found himself. She saw the person she once knew better than anyone slip into the background and morph into Bucky, Steve's Bucky, a stranger.

An eternity passed. That night, after all of that time, she was close to him again. Close enough to see the tiny hairs that speckled his his cheeks in patches, always more on the left than the right. She was close enough to feel the gentle rumble of his chest as it rose and fell. She was just close enough for her mind to trigger the memories of their last two missions before their handlers realized they were compromised. His scent of safety and cedar triggered the pain she felt as she watched him being tortured because of it. A pain that only increased exponentially as she watched those ocean blue eyes, lose their tortured expression he was fighting to hold and slowly empty only to look at her with a vacant expression of nothingness. The next time she saw him they were on polar opposite sides. He shot through her and killed. There was no hope, no fight left for him, so she tried even harder to forget.

Any lingering memories of their time together was locked away in the distant past. A past that was chained and sealed until one day, there he was again, barreling out of the darkness of that abyss, gun in hand. It was the same body but a completely different, broken, and confused man. A man that Steve recognized as his friend, and not her солдат at all.

She had done her best to ignore the pull of the tie that their history had created. It was a one sided captivation labeled as dangerous. She stayed on the outskirts of his orbit, so as not to be affected by the force of his gravity. Being sick and drunk had caused her to drift a little too close, now she was at the mercy of the tsunami of emotions his return had caused.

She had trapped everything to do with him behind thick titanium walls of time and denial, and now that he was back she instituted a self made protocol to keep it that way. She avoided being in the same room alone or ever partnering with him during training. She evaded any place that could tempt conversation, which is why her seat at the dining table was always the farthest from his. Back staircases and elevator shafts were memorized so that she could make a quick escape if need be.

All of this because she was convinced the pain she felt at 19, watching the one person she trusted in the world being tortured beyond his limits, would reappear and swallow her. In a way she was right. Her emotions _were _stirred and strong like a shot of whiskey, but just like with whiskey, in the place of what she thought would be agony, a familiar warmth followed. In that moment she realized that all the good she saw in the Soldier; his steadiness, strength, attention to detail, and towards the end his nurturing were merely consequences of James Barnes character and everything he once stood for.

Her stomach rolled again before she had more time to think about it. She stealthily untangled herself from the mass of blankets. He grumbled and shifted, pulling her closer before releasing her. She waited until his breathing evened out again to sit up fully, pausing only for minute to watch him sleep. It was hypnotizing. A breath in... a breath out. His face was calm, reflecting a certain innocence, as if nothing bad had ever happened to him. In her heart of hearts she wished that were true. Her fingertips were a whisper against his jawline and then she left.

"Goodnight James."

-**short and sweet-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews and follows. **

**If no ones told you today: Life always gets better & I Love You 3000. **

A few minutes later the dead weight of his fallen feet hit the ground with a THWAP! He jolted awake.

"Nat it's time for your meds!" he blurted.

He looked down to find she had already gone.

The blankets had been pulled over him instead and slits of sunshine were now streaming in behind the dark curtains and balcony doors.

"Crap,"Bucky mumbled.

A few minutes his butt. He had been asleep for hours. He didn't even feel her leave. She was a skilled sneak, but so was he. He didn't know when he had started to get a decent night's sleep without waking at every little sound or shadow, but in his line of work he would definitely have to work on that. Now Natasha was who knows where without supervision, probably making herself worse. Well that wasn't his issue. He had done what he could last night and if she wanted to come back around she would. Even so, he didn't like the cold feeling waking up alone left behind, almost like being abandoned.

That thought was absurd but it still bothered him, and the fact that it bothered him aggravated him even more. Sometimes he missed having an alter-ego that felt nothing, emotions were so complicated sometimes. Either way his streak of laziness was broken. His heart wasn't even it anymore. He looked around the room and decided he might as well clean up. He could not have Tony having a million dollar meltdown over this. He grabbed two black trash bags and stuffed them full of garbage. After that he dusted all the crumbs off the couch cushions and tabletops to the floor. He asked Friday to send out one of Tony's freaky self propelling super vacuum robots to do its thing and after gathering all the blankets up he was done. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with his index finger taking a whiff.

"Wooh. Yep that's ripe. Shower time Buck,"

He took the blankets in the elevator and rode up to the floor that belonged to him and Steve. He threw the dirty blankets over one shoulder and fished for his keys. The card key slid in with a click opening the door before him.

The spacious apartment was decorated mostly in black with deep reds, soft blues, and rich browns as a compliment. Three plush grey couches with rose and sky blue pillows made a open square in front of a large plasma screen TV to the right . A mahogany wood coffee table sat in the middle. A small kitchen area with black marble tabletops and swinging stainless steel lights and appliances to match sat behind it. To the left of the kitchen sat a large cherry wood desk and chair for Bucky's journaling. The four glass windows beyond overlooking the city made it the perfect place to write on rainy day. A narrow hallway behind the far left wall split in both directions. One led to the washroom laundry and guest bedroom the other to a white carpeted staircase whose top ended at the master bedroom.

Bucky threw the dirty blankets in the washer turning the nozzle too hot to kill the germs. He threw his shirt and pants in too before jogging up the stairs and jumping into what became a very steamy shower.

He picked a fresh long sleeved blue v-neck and black joggers from his drawer and slipped them on afterwards. The hot water did him some good. Yet, he couldn't quite shake the feeling of Natashas subtle convulsions as she laid in his arms. He shook his head, before rubbing at his eyes and patting cold water through his face and hair. Steve was right it was time for a cut. He didn't have it as long and flowy as it was with Hydra but it wasn't like he had it in the 30's either it was somewhere in between just enough to have a bit of a swoop in the front and be tucked behind his ears. _Somewhere in between. _It was fitting for where he was at in life he wasn't the monster they made him become but he wasn't the James B. Barnes that fell from the train all those years ago he was still reinventing and rediscovering who exactly that was.

After leaving the bathroom he did a few hundred complimentary pushups just to get his blood circulating. He sprawled out on his bed, closed his eyes and began contemplating what exactly he was going to do with himself that day. He began seeing these flashes of clipped memories. Green eyes above him... scorching heat... exhaustion... in and out of consciousness Natasha's face grainy with time.

"_Natalia?"_

He bolted upright.

"Friday write Natasha a note" he commanded.

"You mean send a text message sir?"

"Yeah yeah a message. Just tell her to let me know if she needs anything. I'm free all day," he explained.

"Message is sent sir. You have also received a message from _S_am _Birdbrain_ Wilson reminding you that your therapy session is today," Friday noted.

Bucky grunted running his hands down his face. He had totally forgot. It's not that he hated his therapist. He and the middle aged ex special ops guy were actually kind of buds. He had warm tan skin and a kind dimpled face with brown hair that turned white at the tips. It was amazing how much Bucky talked when they were just tossing an old pig skin back and forth.

He also didn't have to relive every traumatic experience he could imagine like he assumed he would. They mainly spoke about stuff he had missed through the years. They did so more than once while watching replays of old Yankee games with a couple of beers. He gave Bucky coping mechanisms and breathing techniques to handle the panic attacks, told him his stories and encouraged him to write down his own. Steve had given an engraved leather bound journal to do just that. assignment for him that month was to write about every positive and negative thing that happened during the day. Steve and him usually spent breakfast on the balcony after their morning run. Steve used that time to sketch, so Bucky had chosen that time to write as they listened to the city of Manhattan awaken below them. Since Steve was gone, their routine was broken and the journal had sat untouched on his bedside.

He knew he could just fill it in with whatever he did do those days, but honestly what he had done was a whole lot of nothing. Even though he liked doctor Jephrey, SHIELD was still paying him $500 per session and he doubted movie marathons would count in his report as spiritual and mental growth. Crap. He would have totally BS it. He grabbed the journal from the nightstand and headed downstairs to get started during breakfast.

Caught up in his thoughts he almost missed the cute and deadly red head that perched criss cross on his kitchen counter. Almost missed being the words. He was always prepared for his past (maybe even his present) to catch up with him... to corner him somewhere someday. He kept hidden weapons in every room for that very occasion. Quick as lightning he grabbed the pistol that was stashed on top of the fridge. He cocked it violently and shoved it point blank right between sculpted brows. Green eyes challenged blue. She wasn't scared just slightly amused.

"Good morning to you too," she sniffled.

He slammed the gun down on the counter.

" What the hell is wrong with you? God you scared me!" he yelled.

She didn't bat an eyelash at his gun, but at his presumed anger she flinched. Her eyes grew wide like a deer caught in the headlights before immediately twisting herself to slide off the counter and out the door. He felt terrible.

"Wait," he sighed.

He moved his body into a more relaxed position, doing his best not to be intimidating with that extra foot of height he had on her .

"Natasha I'm happy you came I was worried. And I'm sorry for getting upset. I'm not mad. You really did just scare me. I could've shot you. Just.. don't creep up on me like that," he assured her as soothingly as possible.

Five tense seconds passed before the left side of her mouth quirked up.

"I forget sometimes you're a paranoid old man," she joked in a raspy voice.

"You're right ...very paranoid,"

"And Super super old," she repeated.

He rolled his eyes glad he was forgiven. She crossed her legs back to face him again. He noticed she wasn't looking much better. She had changed from pajamas into dark purple and black sweats with tiny arrows all over them and the hoodie he had given her the night before. Her hair looked damp from a shower that hadn't seemed to help. The smell of strawberry and cream shampoo tickled his nose. Dark puffy circles sat under her eyes. She was still slightly green and seemed to want to cave into herself because of the chills.

"I thought you were off somewhere defying doctors orders," he commented while putting on a kettle. Ginger tea was coming up for that poor girl.

"I was but Tony locked me out of all the fun stuff," she answered.

"What, why ?"he asked.

"Because despite the fact that he spends 98 percent of his time covered in grease and dirt, he is a huge germaphobe. Bruce said I definitely have this super flu so Tony put half the tower on Black Widow lockdown until I'm not contagious,"

"Ah soo let me guess that means no gym, shooting range, no common room."

She nodded.

"Did you try the obstacle course or the track outside?"

"Nope I'm not allowed outside either. I think that was more Bruce than Tony though."

"Hmph I'm surprised,"

He pulled one of the hanging teacups from one of the vanilla hooks above her.

"About what?"

"I thought you'd be down there kicking their butts as we speak. You do what you want when you want you're Natasha Romanoff!" He countered his Brooklyn accent incredibly thick.

"Oh I'm totally planning my revenge. I just want to be at my 100% then they're both toast,"she replied cheekily.

"Okay that sounds more like it, make sure FRIDAY records that."

Poor Tony would never see it coming. Widow bites to the unmentionables...dying Bruce's hair green...cutting off Tony's goatee the possibilities were endless.

"Will do," she promised while pulling out in insane ball of clean kleenex from her pockets.

She blew softly for what seemed like minutes before finally taking a choked breath.

"God I hate this," she admitted.

He wasn't even going to ask how she was doing. He could tell the honest answer would be terrible, but she would never admit that. Instead he made sure she had taken her medicine the night before. She said yes,and there was nothing to do but believe her since he had been knocked out cold.

"Do you mind if Friday checks you over again?" He asked.

He had done it twice already without her consent but he really wanted to work on the whole trust thing. She shrugged climbing down off the counter and into one of the stools. She sat up straight while again a green light scanned her body head to toe. Immediately after it was done she slouched placing her forehead on the counter between the fold of her arms. Friday didn't read out the results to avoid upsetting her.

The results showed she had definitely taken her medicine along with proper fluids, but the fever was back to 103 and her symptoms seemed to have increased in severity. Bucky's names along with Bruce and Tony were listed as those also watching her vitals. A text message from Bruce popped up on the bottom of hologram.

" The tests came back. This virus is an anomaly. I can't be sure yet but I'm starting to think the team was targeted. Tony is working on tracking the source. I've got a team working on making some stronger medication. I'll be up in as soon as I can. Will you stay with her?"

Bucky nodded so Friday could send the message back as affirmative. His gut sunk. He knew Natasha was enhanced by the Red Room so it was already surprising that she was sick in the first place. The fact that she wasn't getting better was even more alarming . The idea that someone had made a special killer cocktail of a virus just for her scared and infuriated him all at the same time.

Unaware of the conversation that had gone on over her head she half joked- half coughed, " Am I dying?".

Bucky stiffened, but tried to keep his voice free of worry.

"Nope we just need to get some food in you. What do you want for breakfast?" he questioned.

His mind was running a mile a second . What if Bruce couldn't fix this? What if it took out Clint and his family too? This could be the start of an epidemic. An epidemic that started by killing those who had the best chance at stopping it. He started grabbing eggs, bacon, pancake mix, waffle mix, jams, jellys and fruits out of the cupboards and refrigerator. Making breakfast would be a good distraction for him instead of focusing on the worry clawing at his insides. If only he remembered he was cooking for a very sick and nauseous individual, and not the whole Wakandan army he wouldn't have seen Nat's nose turn up at all the food piling up in front of her.

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled into her hands.

"Don't start Natasha.." He demanded.

"I'm not. I can't eat Barnes. Just so you're aware that soup remade its appearance about 4am this morning,"

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment .

"How about some oatmeal then? It'll be mostly warm sweet milk maybe a little honey? Just enough to get your medicine down?"

She sighed, " Do I have a choice ?"

He began to put the things back in their place.

"Of course you do. If you want to get better you need to eat though," he quipped.

He took her silence as resignation. He put all his effort into perfecting a sweet liquidy oatmeal. She sat quietly dozing, blowing her nose and sniffling behind him.

Every time he looked at her a sharp pain pulled at his chest. It was something that happened right before a panic attack or he saw Steve about to do something stupid on a mission. Because of the latter, that pain happened a lot. It left him feeling uncomfortable and in this case helpless. If Bruce was right Bucky would kill whoever did this to his team. If the bug was getting Natasha like this, he was afraid to see what it would do to a normal person especially little kids..Clints kids.

"Hey how did you get in here anyways? Steve give you a key?" he asked suddenly.

No one was supposed to be able access that floor besides him and Steve. Friday would get permission first before anyone was allowed up. Which is why he had been startled so badly before. Without looking she pointed to the almost invisible vent that now hung open over his writing desk in the corner.

"Of course the famous Clint vent tour. Guess even Tony forgot about that one," he laughed.

"Friday is a good girl about keeping secrets."

"Well I'm glad you're here," he said without thinking.

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you glad I'm here ?"

Natasha could be so manipulative and unpredictable. She knew these were weapons all their own. When someone said or did something she didn't expect, she didn't like the feeling of not knowing. Blunt and to the point was the best way to get the most honest answers.

Why Bucky was happy to have her in his apartment unannounced and infectious, especially since she had not been the most welcoming to him of the group, was a mystery to her. He dried his hands on a green dish towel and threw it over his shoulder

He paused, then getting his thoughts together leaned over the counter and answered softly,"Nat I spent most of my time in the 30's taking care of Steve. I do have a heart you know? I wanna see you feeling better doll. Being sick is no fun".

He turned away after putting the bowl of oatmeal and tea in front of her. She picked on the fringes of the table mat instead of responding. He began chopping mango and grapes into teeny tiny pieces and put them in a plate for her as well. She ate only a few spoonfuls of both bowls before reaching down in her bra and pulling out the pill bottles.

"Hey you still have another couple of hours before you should pop those things ,"Bucky reprimanded.

"Oh cut me a break Barnes, my skull feels like it's going to split in half."

She began unscrewing the cap. Without thinking Bucky tried to place a hand over hers to stop her. She ducked out of reach .

"Right contact only when initiated," he thought.

She looked ashamed at her jumpiness. She had been touched by so so many men. She should be used to it, welcome it even maybe? Whether it was seduction or battle she had felt a thousand different fingertips, most of which weren't able to feel anymore. Still unexpected intimacy even of the smallest kind was not her fortai. There were only only three or four unexpected instances this had happened that didn't make Natasha want to crawl out of her skin or wash it with scalding hot water until it shone bright red and burned every inch of what was contaminated. A squeeze of the hand by Fury the time they almost lost her on mission. The first impulsive hug from Coulson after saving Clints life after being recruited. Or the first time said archer tried to calm her after a nightmare. He had gotten a stab to the gut as a reward. He now knew to knock, or snap her out of nightmares from a distance. It gave ample room for the throwing knives sure to follow.

Once she was comfortable with a person and trusted them her aversion to touch abated. Clint and his family always hugged her, they seemed to make it a goal to hold her hand or touch her hair and brush arms when sitting on the old porch swing in front of the house. It had taken years of practice not to subtly jump or twitch when they did so. They were doing it out of love not manipulation. It was something she just had to get used to with the Bartons . And now that she had, she savored every moment of it. She loved stroking Nathaniel's soft cheeks and the pull of Lylas ponytails when she couldn't sit still as Natasha brushed them. She loved it when Cooper would grab her hand and drag her outside to show her his invention of the day. She adored the moments when Laura would laugh so hard that the wrinkles around her eyes would come together and she would tug her shoulder good naturedly until the fit of giggles stopped.

She and Clint always shared rooms and in extreme situations beds on missions. On especially bad nights he would tuck her under his arm and sing old country songs until she would drift off. Steve always wrapped her in bear hugs before particularly long leaves or dangerous missions. She guessed never having the chance to say goodbye to Bucky was the consequence. Tony would kiss the top of her head sometimes when he felt she had been especially brilliant or when she showed up with Starbucks after one of his forty eight hour no-time-for-sleep binges. Pepper and Wanda would kiss her cheek, while Thor her hand upon his arrivals. Sam and Rhodey were just a huge teddy bears, hugs were not optional with them. All of them had learned how to operate within the boundaries of her affection and she was thankful for it.

Bruce was the first person she really tried to get close to on a different level. Maybe the Black Widow showed too much and she didn't seem as genuine as she felt ; or maybe Bruce just saw her for what she was. She was unlovable in that way. His rejection had embarrassed her to no end and it proved her hypothesis that a life with even a semblance of what Clint and Laura had would never be possible for her .

Now Bucky was reaching for her, caring for her, saying things she didn't expect. In the back of her head she hoped he wouldn't give up trying. He was safe. His presence was a good thing. That's why she had felt compelled to come there in the first place, it would just take awhile to convince her subconscious of that.

He apologized calmly, "Umm sorry I... I shouldn't have done that. Bruce will be up in a minute maybe you should hold off until then?"

"We didn't finish that movie," she suggested.

He side eyed her playfully before saying, "Well I couldn't hear anything over your chainsaw snoring"

"Please you're the one who woke me up last night."

They both laughed, awkwardness dissipating. Bucky grabbed clean blankets from the linen closet down the hall. FRIDAY turned on _East Of Eden_ and dimmed the lights in the living room.

He piled the blankets on the couch in front of the TV and grabbed snacks, water and kleenex for the coffee table in front of it. She began making another nest of blankets folding them into a perfect cocoon around herself. He made himself a couple of sandwiches for his breakfast and some coffee before joining her. He would usually plop down on the big couch right beside Steve and Sam. Huge arms legs and elbows splayed out in different directions along the cushions. They never minded it. The recliner he sat on on now was practically unused, but boundaries.

He was in mid chew when Natasha called his attention. He found her holding his limited edition Captain America blanket. It had a life sized picture of Steve standing with shield ready at his side, determined blue eyes and a taught chiseled jawline to match.

"You sleep with this ?" She mused happily shaking it out to admire it.

All of the Avengers (and those who the team's lives would be impossible without) had gotten custom made blankets each displaying one of them in full color on the front and a group pic of them on the back. Tony had ordered them as a joke but everyone secretly loved them. Somehow through the months the collection had grown and everyone had switched. Natasha had Clint's. Clint's family had Natasha's. Tony had Bruce's, Pepper's, Peter's and Rhode's and vice versa. Peter exchanged with Shuri on account of them being the epic duo of the Science Wiz Kids ( a branch off teenage version of the Science Bros). Wanda had Visions and vice versa. Sam and Scott had exchanged with each other (and somehow gotten a Steve Rogers one as well). Bucky, Steve and even T'challa had, on the down low of course, participated in the exchange as well. Thor thought that on account of him adoring them all equally he would have everyone's blanket, and everyone kept one of his.

Too bad it was Steve's not Thor's blanket that was on the very top of the pile he had given her, as she she sat snickering at the piece of lettuce hanging out of his shocked mouth.

"I know it looks bad, but it's not what you think!" he informed her indignantly.

"Sure sure whatever you say. No judgement. "

She looked away back at the the TV then at him.

"There's plenty of room you know? You don't have to watch the TV at an angle," she noted patting the seat beside her.

His gravity at work again. Now that she knew she wouldn't drown in the tidal waves of her emotions, it gave her the courage to at least wade in the possibility of them being friends. She assured herself that's all it was. It was just her trying to make an effort to be accepting. She told herself that it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the fact that for some reason he made this whole ordeal of being insanely sick almost bearable.

They both knew why he had sat there. He waved it off with one hand in understanding. What ever made her more comfortable is how he would keep it.

"It's fine. That way you can stretch out if you need to."

"I can still stretch out either way can't I?"

He searched her face before gathering up his things and moving to the spot beside her.

"Of course you can."

He didn't crowd her but sat where their knees barely grazed. She had that same look in her eyes that Steve would get when he was sick and didn't want to be left alone. He would act tough and get upset with Bucky telling him to go outside and play with the other boys, but his eyes would plead for him to stay. That's when Bucky learned the power of touch and presence people craved to ground them to the real world. This was especially true when you lived a life of superheros and fiction. He put his plate on the ground beside him after eating and stretched his legs out across the coffee table getting comfortable. As expected the movie turned out to be really good. They may have enjoyed it too, if the couch wasn't shaken by Nats atomic sneezes and vicious coughing fits every ten minutes. Every one of them left her aching body in pain. After an hour of this Bucky finally had mercy on her saying,

"Hey I know you've got another hour to go, but take the meds. I won't tell Bruce if you don't".

"I already did," she sighed.

"Huh ? Wait, when?"

"Before the movie,"

"Crap Natasha."

" Like you said I do what I want."

"Well they should have kicked in by now,"

"Well it hasn't. These drugs are useless I want a new doct...," she moaned abruptly clutching her middle before her hands clamped over her mouth.

Bucky wouldn't say he panicked, but he panicked. He flipped over the couch , sprinted to the kitchen, slid across its counter, and dropped to the floor to reach the garbage beside the island. He scrambled to get back, doing it all in reverse putting it in front of her just in time. She threw up violently. He hovered over her awkwardly waiting with water and paper towels until she was finished.

"Lets not give up on the old one yet okay?"

He had to get Bruce up here immediately. Playing nurse wasn't going so great right now.

"Im getting Bruce" he said moving the trash can from under her nose and tying the strings

together.

He would drop it in the garbage shoot on the way to the lab.

"What? no!" She spluttered seeming to surprise herself as well with the outburst.

Thinking she would be ill again he untied the knot quickly then slid across the room on his knees to hold the bag under her face again. He turned his head away waiting for a spew of fluid that didn't come. After a few moments he cracked one eye open skeptically. She made a face at his dramatics.

"I'm not going to throw up again idiot. I just... I don't want Bruce here right now," she whispered.

"But Nat.." he disputed.

"No, i feel a little better now. I just need to sleep. "

He knew Natasha hated hospitals and doctors with a passion, but she was always defiant never weary like this. She watched the inward struggle play out across his face. He sighed.

"If you throw up again. I will call him" he bargained finally.

"No more throwing up I promise,"

"And no more of that ten blankets crap we have to get that fever down"

She stripped off every blanket except the Captain America one and laid them at her feet. Bucky nodded contentedly taking his place again.

"Do you mind?" She sighed.

"Nope come 'ere"

She quickly made his lap a pillow. Red hair seemingly setting ablaze to everything around it whipping and rippling in every direction as she got comfortable. Her eyes closed. When she was settled she made a grabby motion with slender fingers flexing in and out. Buck handed her her water, which to his surprise was thrown with gusto against the far wall.

"Hey!" He exclaimed.

She kept up the motion until she found what she was looking for, his hand. She placed his metal palm across her forehead and leaned into the touch like the night before. He caught on quickly and massaged through her mess of wavy hair.

"You could've just asked... throwing water bottles around my house," he grumbled.

She drifted off after only a few moments. Even then her breathing was heavy and somewhat erratic, like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room to satisfy her tired lungs.

He shifted a pillow under her head tilting it upwards. It seemed to help but not as much as he hoped. He wouldn't call Bruce if that's what she wanted but it didn't stop him from praying he would show up of his own volition like he said he would.

He curled his arm under hers and around her middle so she couldn't leave without notice again. He had been awake until three the night before. It wasn't a shock that he found himself tired too. After several hours he again let sleep replace the swirl of growing worry.

**-Bruce Tony Pepper and Peter Will Be Coming Up in the Next Chapter/ I'm So Excited-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Against all odds you made it through another Monday. Congratz!**

**Chapter 4.**

"Sergeant Barnes?... Sir?...Sergeant Barnes...James!" Friday called out sounding as flustered as artificial intelligence could.

"Mhmm Yeah, what's going on?" He asked rubbing his face with his free hand.

"Sir, Dr. Banner is insisting entry. He says its urgent," Friday insisted.

"Yeah yeah of course let him in."

Bucky sat up a little straighter, while trying not to wake Tasha. Bruce rapped on the door lightly before entering.

Bucky noticed he was still wearing the wrinkled blue collared shirt from when he saw him last. His curly been pulled in 6 different directions during the night.

"Hey Doc , rough nights all around I'm guessin'?" He asked knowingly.

"Yeah pretty rough, um Tasha is still here right?" He inquired sweeping the room with his eyes.

From the door he couldn't see very well into the living room. He was prepared to play hide and seek the Avengers Tower version with her if he had to. Suddenly Bucky became very aware of the situation. Nat had been adamant about not wanting Bruce around earlier. He didn't know how'd she feel about him seeing her unconscious and sprawled across his lap at that.

"Umm yeah the pain meds have her you know kinda loopy and stuff sleeping everywhere," Buck laughed awkwardly.

He made a circle with his index finger around his temple. Bruce looked toward the stairwell.

"So she's in your room?"

"Uh no she's right here... we were watching a movie and we uh fell asleep."

Bruce finally walked over to them, eyes widening a little at the sight.

Natasha's pink face buried in the soft throw pillow, with her cheek resting close to Buck's chest. Bucky felt bashful like a when his Ma had caught him and Steve stealing cookies from the jar. This time it was Bruce's cookie he had his hands all over. Technically Bruce didn't want it, so he shouldn't care, but oh he totally did. Bucky saw several emotions flicker across his face one behind the other before Bruce could compose himself. Bucky knew that face, it belonged to the face of a man who had it bad. Bruce caught Bucky staring and looked quickly at his Stark pad. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Umm, I'm glad she's getting rest."

"Yeah, you missed the puke party. That was super fun. It tuckered her right out. I thought you said you were coming right up. What happened? Tony trap you in an elevator or something?"

"Nope Clint swung by. We had to run some tests."

"He was here? I thought he was sick too?"

"He is. The whole family is actually. Little Nathaniel spent the night in ICU. This thing is pretty bad man."

Bucky's heart dropped at the thought of the tiniest Barton. Bruce went on to explain that Clint had come to pick up a stronger dose of medicine. Bruce also drew blood and ran some tests to see exactly what they were dealing with. He was right the virus was an anomaly. It was definitely the instigation of some kind of biological warfare. The bacteria seemed to change and strengthen with every passing hour they studied it. The lab was now swarming with doctors and pharmacists that Tony had flown in to work on stopping it before it spread.

During this explanation Bucky noticed a weird distortion around Bruce's body. It reminded him of the force fields in Wakanda. Trained eyes could decipher the almost glossy film around the edges. Bruce explained that Tony had designed a high tech all encompassing germ bubble that should keep any of the other team members from getting sick and with those Coulson and Wanda had flown back with Clint to help out.

"Fingers crossed that it works,"Bruce added.

"I thought you couldn't get sick though?"

"Technically the other guy won't let me die but I've had a few ugly colds in my day. Plus if it got Steve the rest of us can get sick too," he quipped passing Bucky a small case with what looked like a tiny blue tooth headset inside.

Bruce pressed the middle button activating the shield around Bucky. His nose, eyes, and mouth suddenly had a strange tingle around them so he supposed it was working.

"Wait Steve is sick too?!"

" 'fraid so,"

"How's that even possible?"

"Like I said this thing is strong. Plus Steve's enhancements were done over 70 years ago.A Lot has changed."

It looked like someone had given up on trying to make super individuals and instead set a plan in motion to destroy any that existed.

"Where's Cap now?"

"On a plane back to New cleared him to leave mission before any civilians got sick," Bruce glanced at his watch," Hmm he should be here in about an hour give or take a few minutes."

Bucky was relieved to hear Steve was coming back home where he could keep any eye on him. He was almost as stubborn as Natasha when he got sick but most of the time Bucky could make him see way he could wrestle him to the ground if need be, he'd done many times before.

Ahh it would be just like the good old days, accept the fact that he was dealing with super powered beef cake instead of a 90 pound asthmatic. Bucky scratched his head.

A virus with the strength to take down a super soldier was something you couldn't down play. His grip instinctively tightened around Natasha as if he could stop it by force and willpower. Bruce stepped around the couch grumbling about labels while taking several disassembled needles and swabs from his pocket and placing them on the coffee table.

Bucky's eyebrows pulled together.

"What are the needles for ?" Bucky questioned.

" I need to take blood from her and Steve ," Bruce answered.

"Oh perfect she's gonna love that," Bucky said sarcastically.

"You wanna do the honors?"

"What , wake her up ? Nope, you're her doctor don't look at me."

"Well, she wouldn't exactly appreciate me jabbing a needle in her. She seems like she likes you soo..."

"What she would really like is if you both would shut up," Nat murmured calmly.

Her voice was the only thing betraying the fact that she wasn't asleep.

Bucky and Bruce both startled at her comment wondering how long she'd been listening.

"Woah, hey. Hi, Nat how're you feeling?" Bruce stuttered.

She sighed.

"That bad huh?"

She sat up straighter, though still in Buck's lap, her back against the armrest. Bruce's nimble fingers quickly assembled the needles between them. He made sure to keep his eyes down and off the pair.

" Umm we need to take some blood Nat okay?"

Surprisingly she didn't put up a single fight. She took the three needles from Bruce and drew out the blood herself like only Natasha would do. They all watched quietly as the dark red liquid pooled and sloshed in the small vials. After that was over Bruce handed her several small red tablets and a dark yellow liquid antibiotic that was to be injected right below her hip every 6 hours.

"We have to treat this pretty aggressively so the meds are pretty strong. You might feel a little high, but that's normal."

He made eye contact with Bucky before saying,"You think you can stay close and keep an eye on Bucky for awhile until we get this thing under control?"

She nodded tiredly already drifting back off into her fitful sleep. Bucky tucked the blanket back under her chin. Her head lulled to the side before both men shared a weary glance.

Suddenly the T.V behind Bruce and the coffee table lit up with a message stating incoming video call from none other than Tony Stark. The TV began displaying the scene of a chaotic lab alive with the bustling of white coats rushing back and forth behind it. It seemed like Tony was holding the phone's camera at an angle as he yelled at someone off screen.

The hd camera picked up the dark blue and black circles under his eyes. They made an appearance in only the most stressful and obviously sleep depriving situations maring Tony's otherwise handsome face. Neither him nor Bruce had slept in the past 16 hours, and it didn't look like that would be changing anytime soon.

"Ugh what an idiot," Tony growled under his breath before flashing a fake smile at said idiot when he walked by. He rolled his eyes, then a blank look flashed across his face as if he had forgotten what he was doing at the moment.

"Tony!" Bruce called loudly.

The sound seemed to register to him and he finally looked down at his phone.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, hey Brucie Bear how's everybody looking' over there?"

"They're alive Tones. Not feeling too good though."

"Hey since when are their cameras in my T.V Tony!?" Bucky cried.

"Hey calm down Robocop i'll have you know I've got cameras on every inch of the tower. I only use them in emergency situations. Don't worry your make out sessions with Cap are completely off limits," Tony answered snidely wiggling his eyebrows.

Bucks nose flared. "Ugh I am not dating Steve! Does everybody think that?"

"Yes," Tony answered in sudden seriousness, while Bruce just shrugged in agreement.

"Well I'm not , and I'd appreciate if you all would drop it."

"Denial," Tony chuckled, "Anyways where's my favorite deadly Russian?"

Bruce moved out of his vantage point revealing the woman in question .

"Oh god, is she dead?" he deadpanned quoting Loki without knowing it.

"Nope just knocked out...I hope," Bruce answered taking her wrist in his hands looking for a pulse just to be on the safe side. "Yeah she's okay just asleep."

"Alright we gotta get this thing under wraps. This thing is really starting to annoy the hell out of me."

Both men could discern the worry laced in the billionaire's voice. The virus wasn't just annoying him it was scaring him as well. It was a problem he couldn't blast through or fly away from no matter how badly he wanted to. His friends lives were on the line, and even making the sacrifice play wasn't an option.

Tony finally realized what was wrong with the scene in front of him. One person was not where she should be. Or so he thought.

"Hey, when did you two get so close?" Tony asked Bucky almost accusingly.

Buck didn't get a chance to answer before he turned that same accusatory tone was on Bruce instead.

"You see I told you Bruce ya snooze ya lose. You should've got with her on Clint's farm, but oh no "Mr. Holy Hulk and righteous" got in the way. For a smart person you sure are dumb!"

Bruce was now turning various shades of red and purple, while Bucky assigned himself the task of finding more out about the " Clint's Farm Event". It sounded hilarious.

"Tony stop that! Leave him alone!"

The visual was out of focus for a moment as the phone was ripped out of his hands. It refocused on Pepper's beautiful smiling and freckled face instead.

"Sorry about that. Hey guys how's it going up there?"

"We're fine Pep thanks," Bucky said giving her a small smile.

"I would take the day off to come and help, but I leave for a meeting Japan in an hour. I just can't reschedule, but I'll be back as soon as I can. I sent a care package up with Dum-E. It has blankets, NyQuil, Dayquil, fuzzy socks, and fruits and veggies for the nutri- blender we got you. Um I can't think of anything else," she chewed her bottom lip adorably in thought.

"That's great babe you're so thoughtful," Tony interrupted kissing her on the cheek. He sat his chin on her shoulder so he could be in the frame as well.

"Thanks you are too. That's so nice you're letting Bucky use DumE to help out until everyone's better. That's just the sweetest!"

Tony's face screwed into a confused scowl.

"I didn't let Bucky use Dum-E. He's mine."

"You just did" Pepper," informed promptly while stomping on his foot.

"Ow ow, oh yeah Barnes DumE's coming . Ouch you have heels on! "

In all honesty Bucky didn't want or need Tony's robot but he would put up with the accident prone bucket of bolts if only to annoy the genius. He was nice like that.

"Thanks Pepper. Have a safe flight."

"I will and keep me updated. If anyone gets worse I will turn the plane around no questions asked okay James?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Pepper nodded then waved a goodbye, and gave the phone back to her fiancee.

"Alright signing off. Bruce we could use a hand down here, that is if you're not too into your feelings right now," Tony ended the conversation leaving the two men and one very sick assassin by themselves again.

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, then pushed his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose.

" Umm I better go help. Let us know if anything you know... um changes. Steve will be here soon. You think you can handle them both or you need backup?"

"I'll hold the fort up here Doc. Don't worry about me."

Bruce nodded. He picked up all he had brought with him carefully labeling Natasha's blood before heading back to the lab. Bucky huffed out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding . He glanced at Natasha who still managed to look gorgeous despite having a potentially deadly disease coursing through her body.

He didnt know whose shoes he'd rather be in Bruce and Tony with all their stressful scientific confusion or his in dealing with two very sick and obstinate individuals. Of all the missions had been given this one was somehow one of the most terrifying.

Killing bad guys was easy. Burn a building to the ground? No problem. Knock a couple a hundred of heads together? Not an issue. Take down a hostile terrorist group without mercy? Done without breaking a sweat. . You never had to worry about them eating or if their leggings were warm enough to keep the chills at bay. Keeping someone you care about alive and comfortable, now this was way harder than any of those. Watching them suffer and being so helpless was never something he handled well. He was trying not to mull over worst case scenarios. Bruce and Tony would fix this they had to. An hour later Friday announced DumE's arrival, breaking into his thoughts.

The bot was balancing a massive basket of Peppers get well goodies. The robot rolled in looking no less happy to be there then he was to have him. Somehow it was able to convey this despite lacking a face. It approached apprehensively. It's wheels somehow getting tangled in the fringes of the living room carpet. The robot let out a somewhat disgruntled beep as it did it best to keep the items in place. A rebel orange knows dived from the top of the basket and onto the floor followed by several of its fruit followers. At the noise Natasha stirred uncomfortably.

"Hey keep it down you clumsy bastard!"Buck chastised.

In response it slowly backed up and untangled itself the best it could hustling into the kitchen and placing the basket on the table carefully. DumE then came back to retrieve what had fallen chirping something eerily similar to the word bastard in Bucks directions.

"What did you say punk?"

It only disrespectfully waved his arm in response going to a corner and making a big display of turning itself off. Attitude. It was definitely Tony Stark's child. While the mechanical one sat and pouted, the half-human half-spider one unexpectedly knocked on his door.

"Come in man," he yelled thinking it was Steve.

Usually his best friend just waltzed in, being the only other person in the tower with a door key.

"Umm sir? It's me Peter, the doors locked" a small voice answered.

"Peter?"

"Yeah sorry to bother you,"

"Friday open the door."

"Yes sir."

Bucky could tell in one glance the spider baby was sick too. He looked just about ready to fall over.

"Not you too kid?"

"Yeah I think so."

Peter wiped his nose with the back of his hand, still standing in the doorway looking sheepish. He had started feeling really off yesterday evening after patrol. For the most part it was a pretty slow night.

To Be Continued:

**-Thanks for Reading and Forgiving the typos. I promise to keep correcting as I go. -**

**-hey cutie, thanks for reading- **


	5. Chapter 5

Peter had gone home early after dangling from the ceiling of a local bank, in what happened to be a false alarm trip, had almost given the deaf elderly janitor who caused it a heart attack. Peter felt that the face full of Windex he received was well deserved. He was glad he had learned enough sign language to say I'm sorry, and explain his actions before police showed up to help the poor guy home.

He attributed his heavy heart to the sluggish and sleepy state he suddenly found himself in. He swung home without his usual gusto while his anxiety had a field day.

"Way to go idiot almost had your first kill tonight. Stupid Stupid Stupid," He thought.

He pried open his bedroom window, slipped off his suit and pulled on some sweats before wandering into the living room looking for comfort food. Aunt May was humming with the radio as she cooked and danced around the kitchen unaware Peter had came in. A glass of chardonnay sat in the window. She shook and bopped her head Tina Turner style before belting the chorus to Rolling On a River into a wooden spoon covered in thick red pasta sauce.

Peter covered his chuckle so as not to interrupt. When she turned to thank her imaginary audience for her fantastic performance, Peter applauded. May screamed throwing the spoon across the room. Peter caught it out of midair.

"Wooh that was amazing!" Peter laughed using his free hand to cup around his mouth like he was a gleeful fan trying to reach her.

"Pete, how long have you been there!?"

"Umm since this," Peter giggled imitating her some of her dance moves.

She strode over smacking him with a dish towel before pulling him into a hug.

"Well I have to do something to distract me, or I'll go insane waiting for you to come home. You're early by the way. Since when?"

He was still smushed against her chest. Hugging as long as May wanted was one of the stipulations Peter had to follow if she was to let him be Spiderman. The coddling was almost always welcome after a hard nights work.

"I'm not feeling too well," he explained.

She pulled back to look to study his face.

"Honey your cheeks are flushed and you feel warm."

"I'm always a little hot.."

" I know because of the spider thing. I know, what I mean is you're hotter than usual,"

"Well I've been letting my hair grow out, I'm going for a messy Harry Styles kinda thing. Thanks for noticing," he joked.

"I'm serious honey. You don't look too good."

He shrugged it off to tiredness.

"Well come and eat some dinner, and then I want you to get some rest. Understand?"

"I have spanish homework."

"You can do it in first period."

"Like a delinquent?"

"No,like a normal teenager."

"Eat. Shower. Sleep. Understand Spider Man?"

He gave her a salute.

"Yes ma'am."

Within the hour he felt unusually exhausted and had a faint headache . He slept as soon as he hit the pillow.

He woke up the next morning late for school and confused as to why his spidey senses were unusually sharp. He laid there waiting for something to show itself and explain the reason for his awareness, but it never came.

His slight headache had escalated to a migraine overnight and his bones had joined the party by aching. He would've seriously considered staying in if it wasn't the Friday of his internship at the Tower.

Pepper was away for the weekend, and Tony thought it the perfect time for one of their epic sleepovers. The only person who would make them go to bed or set rules for just how crazy destructive their experiments could get, would conveniently be working on another continent.

They usually ended up crashing in the massive room Tony had given Peter on his floor. If he missed school May would definitely keep him from going for the weekend, the thought of that was more painful than anything going on in his body.

He went through his morning routine in a complete fog. He shrugged on a clean long sleeve shirt, a jacket and jeans before popping three extra strength tylenols and hearing out.

"Only seven hours. I can get through seven hours. I'm spiderman. .SPIDERMAN. Spiderman doesnt feel pain. He doesn't get sick," he hyped himself up.

In fact he hadn't been sick since the spider bite. He had super healing factors and an immune system to match. Dr. Cho had done the tests. Maybe they weren't so super after all.

"He's been acting weird all day."

" Yep, and he barely touched his lunch."

Peter felt a thick finger poke his side. He had his head tucked between his arms and was hardly listening to the conversation happening above him. He sat with MJ on one side and Ned on the other. It was pizza day, but the smell of the still sizzling pepperoni was making him nauseous.

Had the cafeteria always been this loud?

"Mmgggphh," he moaned in response.

"What's wrong Peter?" Ned asked concerned.

" I'm fine guys," he mumbled. "I think I'm just catching a cold or something."

"But I thought you couldn't get sick since you're Spiderm...,"

MJ reached over and whacked him in the back of the head before he could finish that sentence. Honestly Peter didn't know how he had kept his secret this long having Ned as his best friend. Thankfully, now that MJ knew, they could tag team the problem.

"Ouch! Hey, I wasn't even that loud!"

"You're always loud!" Peter and MJ both chimed in the same instant.

"Whatever, maybe you should go home bro. You've been like out of it all day. "

"Nah, I'm fine guys really."

Michelle put a cool palm against his forehead. It felt insanely good. She took his chin and tilted it upwards.

"You've got a fever Parker."

He and MJ had been dating for a couple of months now, but each time she touched him still cued butterflies. The times she was roughing him up, for as she put it, "his constant idiocracy", were no exception. She turned his face this way and that, squeezing the middle of his cheeks between her hand just enough for him model the "fishy face" look, before letting him go.

" I'm calling May. You need to go home," she concluded matter of factly. She pulled her phone out and began to dial his Aunt's number.

The dopey smile he wore on his face from her attention, immediately fell.

"Wait no! I have my "internship" this weekend remember?" he whispered.

"So?"

"So, if I'm sick May won't let me go this weekend."

M.J gave him a condescending look, but she knew how much spending time with Tony meant to him.

"Plus, we've got like what..?" He checked his watch. ¨..two hours left. I'll be fine, see?"

He took a huge bite of his pizza to appease her.

¨Mmmmh so good," he lied as he did his best not to gag .

Neither Ned nor MJ challenged him any further, only giving him sideways glances all through his next few classes. His spidey sense was still on high alert like something was lurking, following him. It screamed that something was definitely wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint what was triggering it. It was making the whole head cold thing close to unbearable.

He was relieved to hear the last bell ring for the day. He made it, well barely, but it still counted.

Ned and MJ met him in the busy hallway and walked him outside, and down the steps to where Happy was waiting.

He and Ned did their special handshake as Peter explained he would meet up with him Sunday evening to study for their trigonometry test on Monday. MJ's honey brown eyes were drawn in slits all the while, scrutinizing him with books hugged to her chest. When Peter turned to her giving his best ¨Im fine" smile, her face stayed hard and concerned.

She had seen that smile many times before. It meant he was totally not okay but trying to hide it.

¨Hey,¨ he playfully tugged a strand of her curly hair before tucking it behind her ear, ¨I´ll text you later kay?"

She wanted to say something about the fact that he was still in a hoodie while everyone else had shed their jackets hours ago. Or tell him she had half the mind to drag him by the ear down the hallway and to the nurse's station to get checked out properly, but this was her life now, being constantly worried about him and trying not to show it. One of downsides of dating a superhero was that she couldn't freak out about stuff like this. It was important to save her rants and tyrades for when it really mattered. For instance the several times he had gotten shot and instead of getting help decided to try and ¨sleep it off¨.

This was probably just a cold, so instead of arguing she just forced smiled and replied,¨ You better Parker.¨

"Okay, I'm not going to kiss you, uhh I don't want you to get sick or something." Peter mumbled reddening at every word.

MJ caught him in a swift hard hug which he returned easily, holding her a little longer than intended.

Happy yelled out of the window,¨Alright Romeo, you coming or not kid?¨.

¨ Hi Happy!¨ Ned greeted cheerfully.

¨Peter´s friends,¨ Happy acknowledged them robotically.

Peter let go after flashing another deception of a smile. He waved them goodbye with way more pep then he felt. As soon as Happy pulled away, he slumped back into the seat and rested his head against the window.

Usually he was talking a mile a minute about everything from school to his patrols, but that day he was quiet. Don't misunderstand, Happy enjoyed the peace, but after awhile it was unsettling.

"How was your day kid?"

"Mmm. Fine thanks. You?"

"Fine."

Silence resumed. Street light. Stop for red. Green for go. Weave in, out and between cars. Grey buildings with a thousand windows scraping the sky. The congestion of the New York sidewalks. A million people not minding anyone else but themselves. Speed through the yellow light and turn left. Peter still wasn't talking.

"So Tony told me to tell you he might not be down for awhile. Him and Bruce are working in something big. You know Top Secret," Happy said emphasizing the last two words to peak the teen's interest.

It did get Peter's attention, but not for the reason he hoped. Peter was happy to hear Tony wouldn't be in the workshop right away. He was exhausted, and for some strange reason very cold. He visualized his $8,000 tempurpedic mattress with it's thick Spiderman comforter waiting for him in his room upstairs. A nap of epic proportions was about to take place.

The Bentley's ride was smooth as always, but that day Peter felt every bump, every twist and every turn. He was trying to rest against the window, but his senses were too sensitive. The sound of the tires against asphalt sounded like roaring thunder. Honking cars were like nails on a cardboard and clanging symbols. Even Happy's voice was too close, too loud.

Happy kept glancing at Peter as he drove, noticing his breathing seemed a bit shallow.

"Hey kid are you okay?"

At that second Peter's world went topsy turvy, and his stomach went with it. His fingers bolted for the button to roll down his window.

Crap, the child lock was on! Why was the child lock on? He wasn't a child. Not important right now.

He unbuckled quickly and scrambled over Happy's lap finding the button that correlated. Happy swerved narrowly avoiding a yellow taxi cab in front of them.

"What the Hell Peter!"

He made it back to his window just in time to spill his guts on the pavement. Some unfortunate woman walking along screamed about her Gucci heels being ruined. Peter opened his mouth to apologize, but another gush of pulverized spaghetti and pizza came out instead. He clutched at his stomach while violently dispelling everything he had. Happy reached across to pat him on the back awkwardly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, his gaze torn between the road and Peter.

Peter stayed half way out the window for several long minutes trying to get it all out. The dry heaves finally calmed, and Happy was glad the worst seemed to be over. That was until Peter started to shout.

"Oh my G...! No no no !"

"What? What is it?!"

Peter ducked his head back inside, eyes wide.

"Happy, I'm so sorry. I'm sooo sorry sorry sorry! I'll clean it. I'm sorry," Peter stumbled over his words looking like he had seen a ghost.

"What Peter? WHAT?!" Happy screamed completely unsure of what was happening. He was driving like a mad man, and hit what he prayed was a curb, before Peter finally answered in a low voice.

"I puked all over the outside your Bentley. I'll clean it I swear." Peter admitted sheepishly. He put his head between his knees partly to quell the nausea and partly out of embarrassment. Happy was more worried about why the boy had erupted like a violent vomit volcano without warning than any thing else.

"It's fine. Back in the day I had to get the car detailed every Monday morning because of Tony. At least you threw up on the outside."

"Really? You're not mad?"

He still had his head down so his voice came out muffled and small.

"Yeah it's fine. I promise. You think you're done?"

He finally sat up.

"Yeah I just wanna lay down."

"Alright, there's napkins in the console clean yourself up. You eat something bad?"

"I don't think so. I've been feeling off since last night," Peter informed him while rummaging.

" As soon as we get to the Tower. You're going to see Bruce."

"No, it's okay I'm fine."

"Kid?"

"Yeah?"

They locked eyes.

"Can it. You're going to Bruce and that's final."

Peter sighed. What was the point of fighting it? All his life he'd wanted nothing more than a solid father figure. Thanks to joining the avengers he had uncles and dads galore. That also meant a lot of newfound parental hovering. Be careful what you wish for.

Happy punched in a number on the cars LED display.

"Hello Mr. Hogan," Friday answered calmly.

" Tell Bruce that we need to see him. ETA fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir."

"Friday?"

"Yes?"

Happy watched as Peter curled into a ball, and reclined his seat back. He did this while moaning quietly to himself. Happy put heavy foot against the gas pedal. The engine revved into action.

" Scratch that ETA is eight minutes"

Upon completing quiet a wild ride, Happy finally pulled into the garage. The kid had really done a job on his car and unfortunately it smelled worse than it looked. He was careful not to touch anything as he opened Peter's door. Taking the kid's backpack he herded him into the elevator and down to the lab.

"Please Happy, I just want to go to bed," he mumbled.

Knowing the kid was feeling horrid he tried to keep his voice leveled despite Peter's whining.

"Shhht. This will only take a second."

Usually Bruce's lab was a clean quiet place with Mozart or Bach playing softly in the background. Instead it was crowded with people, few which Happy recognized. All of them were in a complete frenzy. Some were pouring over papers and files while others studied slides on microscopes. Samples and vials were being moved from one side of the space to another. The sitting room area had trash overflowing with takeout and coffee cups with more than several people reading or sprawled out across the furniture and floors trying to get some rest among the chaos. Everything looked tense, but Peter was too far gone to notice . The lab was huge and from the massive glass windows the doctor couldn't be pinpointed.

The medbay was a ways down the hall, Happy decided to take him to there instead of dragging him through the sea of people. Surprisingly it wasn't empty. They found the towers resident archer was sitting on one of the beds looking antsy. A white strip of cotton wrapped around the crook of his arm.

"Hey man I thought you had the week off?"

"I did but the whole family is sick with this super crap virus. I flew in to get some tests done, pick up some meds. Phil and Darcy are coming back with me too," Clint answered.

Clint's voice sounded raw as if he had been eating glass shards. Dark purple circles rested underneath his eyes.

"What's up with the kid?"

" I think he's sick too. He just puked all over my baby. Can you keep an eye on him while I go find Bruce?"

" Hey!" Peter interjected appalled that Happy was telling Clint about the incident . "I said I was sorry, and I don't need a babysitter."

"Hey squirt for your information I don't babysit. Now come lay down before you keel over," Clint interrupted creating a spot for Peter on his bed. Ah laying down now that he could do. Peter was done arguing. He practically collapsed beside Clint.

"You need anything?" Happy questioned Clint.

"Yeah a crap load of tylenol and a couple shots of Tony's good whiskey if you can manage."

" Aren't you flying home?"

"That's what Coulson and auto pilot are for." Clint said laying down again with arms crossed behind his head.

Happy nodded.

"Fair enough. I'll see what I can do."

He made his way back down the corridor. Before he could enter a guard stepped in front of him blocking his entry.

"You can't go in there, " he ordered gruffly.

Happy glared at him unaware of the reason the tall lanky young man was holding him back. Happy was the head of the security, and he was about to knock him a couple pay grades down if he didn't drop the attitude. The guard seemed to change his tone upon realizing who he was talking to. He quickly removed his skinny limb from blocking Happy's chest.

" Uhh sorry Mr. Hogan, but you'll have to be evaluated first."

"Excuse me?"

"It's just a precaution sir."

Happy passed what he learned later was a quick medical evaluation and received a prototype of Tony's disease guard. When he was finally cleared to go inside,it was only to find Tony three seconds away from a fist fight.

"What am I paying you for if all you can say is 'I'm not sure at this time Mr. Stark?'" he mimicked the doctor in front of him with a high nasally voice. " What's wrong with you?!" he seethed.

Happy stepped between the belligerent genius and the defiant doctor who looked just as mad as Tony did.

"I would go if I were you," he warned not breaking eye contact with his bosses contender.

The doctor glared at both him and Tony, but took the advice before stalking off. Happy made sure he returned to his lab table, before facing his friend.

"What the hell is going on in here?" he questioned following the other man through the maze of tables and people as he walked in search of caffeinated fuel.

"Long story short. We think someone targeted the team. Maybe on one of Clint's missions , we're not sure. All that we know is everyone that has been to Clint's farm in the past couple of weeks has probably come in contact with it.." he broke off in a frustrated growl upon finding the coffee pot empty.

"And they drank all my DAMN COFFEE!"

Happy plucked a white styrofoam cup from the closest white coat passing, then pushed it into Tony's hands. The robbed intern let out a squeak of indignation. Happy slipped her five dollars.

"He needs it more than you. Keep walking."

Tony took several large gulps and nodded approvingly. A little clarity returned to him. He sat back down at his desk and began sifting through documents, then glanced at the time.

"Aren't you supposed to be picking up the pip squeak?"

"Yeah about that boss." Happy rubbed the back of his head.

"What? He blow me off to hang with MJ instead? That sly dog," Tony smiled approvingly.

"Not exactly. Tony, I think Peter might be sick too,"

Tony looked up at him incredulously.

"Not possible, Peter has been in school. He hasn't visited the farm in weeks."

"Well maybe it's a coincidence, but I doubt it. I left him in the medbay with Clint."

Tony brushed past him before he could finish the sentence. He grabbed Bruce by the collar and pulled him in tow as well.

"Tony I was talking !" Bruce exasperated.

"No time, Peter's sick too."

The three men found said teenager doubled over a trashcan upon entering the bay. Clint was on his knees beside him rubbing his back.

"You're okay buddy," Clint consoled passing him a water bottle to wash his mouth out.

He noticed the group approach and had an unspoken conversation with them above Peter's head. The gist of it being that this didn't look good at all.

Tony composed his face quickly before Peter could read the desperate worry in it.

"Hey spiderling," Tony greeted softly him and guided back to the bed.

Peter gave him a weak hello.

"Not feeling too hot Peter?" Bruce asked grabbing a stethoscope and pulling up his charts.

"Nope," Peter replied popping the p for emphasis. "I'm feeling really wiped and everything hurts."

" Bruce is going to look you over then you can sleep okay?" Tony bargained.

Oh sleep, sweet sleep. He was so exhausted. He had just started to doze off when his stomach decided to mirror one of his famous front flips. He barely made it to the trash bin. He agreed with Tony's compromise and plodded through Bruce's poking, prodding, and questions.

Tony sat with him on the hospital bed, one arm slung over his shoulder. The longer Bruce took the more Peter leaned into to his mentor's side. By the time Bruce had finished Peter was tucked into the crook of Tony's shoulder only half conscience. Happy took a picture for Pepper.

"Welp, he definitely has it. How? I don't know," Bruce affirmed.

They were all still hoping for the possibility of this being just a fluke 48 hour bug picked up from one of their more exoctic mission locations. If Peter had it without traveling anywhere near the farm or the other avengers, the possibility of an attack from someone having a personal vendetta against the team seemed more likely. It also meant that one of the largest cities in the world was at risk of infection, and at this point there was no definite game plan in place.

Peter was always so full of life, smiling, talking and quoting memes nonstop even though Tony would beg him to stop. Seeing him so pale and quiet made Tony beyond anxious. To make it worse he complained about his senses being acute and extremely painful. Bruce administered him another shot besides his antibiotics to help him relax. They were three times stronger than he would usually prescribe to make up for his metabolism. It made him feel floaty and disorientated. He gripped Tony tighter afraid he would drift up and off to the ceiling where no one could reach.

"Shht.. It's okay Pete. It's just the drugs."

"It's not as fun as everyone says," Peter commented. Everything looked fuzzy and colors were swirling like a painter's easel. The pain started to subside, but he didn't enjoy the feeling of not being in control.

Tony chuckled, "Good I'm glad you think that".

"Can we go to my room now?" Peter asked brown eyes wide and fawn like.

Tony's heart almost burst. He finally understood this whole parenthood gig. When your kid's sick there's nothing you wouldn't do for them. At that second he would've given Peter anything, he completely owned him.

A yes was on the tip of Tony's tongue when Bruce intercepted the question. The whole tower was on light lockdown, being sanitized, and scanned. They had to keep those infected quarantined. Peter would have to stay there.

"No! Please I hate the medbay," Peter pleaded.

He knew he sounded just like the baby he had tried to convince Happy he wasn't, but he didn't care. All he wanted was his bed and Tony to be with him.

"Fine I'll stay with him," Tony answered matter of factly slipping off his shoes and climbing onto the medical bed. Peter took that as an invitation to snuggle in beside him.

"Tony you can't," Bruce said softly. He hated to break the two apart, but Tony was the only one able to access Peter's suit. If they were right in the assumption that someone was planting the virus where they knew a member of the team would be, they might be able to pinpoint exactly when and where Peter had come in contact with it. It was the only lead they had. If they didn't get ahead of this, a lot more people would get hurt.

After hearing that explanation Peter pried himself away from Tony.

"It's okay. You should go," Peter whispered.

Tony sighed, "You sure kiddo?"

He wanted so much to curl up with his Iron dad. Feeling sick, as the case with any man, was making him feel ridiculously clingy and helpless, but sacrifice was just a part of the job.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he promised.

"He can come back with us to the farm. We can keep an eye on him," Clint suggested.

Tony shook his head knowing Peter's Aunt would want to keep him close, and honestly screw his gorgeous aunt he wanted to keep Peter close.

"What about staying with Bucky?" Bruce suggested since Bucky and Steve's floor was the only floor besides the med bay to be left alone.

All vents there had been shut up and set to circulate the air. The elevators had been sealed, and thankfully the one armed ex assassin was showing no signs of the sickness.

Tony liked that idea best, at least there was someone there to watch over Peter that wasn't a stranger. He could also pop up for a visit when and if he got a break

"What do ya think sport? Wanna hang out there?".

Peter put on a brave face.

"Yeah, sure. "

Tony helped him up before impulsively pressing a kiss to the tiniest avengers head. Peter blushed, but couldn't remember why he should be embarrassed. Clint, Bruce and Happy smiled at the sight but didn't comment.

"Get some rest. I'll come up and check on you in a few hours okay?" Tony instructed.

Peter nodded.

"Can you check on Ned and MJ. Oh, and tell Aunt May what's going on too."

"Of course. Now go."

Peter tested out his legs to make sure they were still operational, and made his way to the elevator Bruce had specified. Clint asked if he needed help. He tripped a couple of times, but waved him off. Why the floor kept getting closer than farther on repeat had nothing to do with his ability to walk.

Over his shoulder he heard the men talking.

"You got plans tonight?" Tony asked Happy.

"None that can't be changed."

"Good. Go pick up May when she gets off of work. Make sure she doesn't have anything then bring her back here. She can stay in Pete's room. Round up some of the SHIELD goons and have them secure his apartment," Tony scratched at his beard. " Also, put in an order with Maria to have a psa delivery particularly to those in Peter's school and East Queens. If anyone starts displaying extreme symptoms they need to go to the hospital right away. I'll call you if I find anything from the suit's footage. Try and keep it under wraps as much as you can, we don't want a panic at the disco. Got it?"

"Of course." Happy assured leaving but remembering one important fact he turned back on his heel."Oh, Tones?"

"Yeah Buddy?"

"I'm taking your viper."

"What? Why?"

"Cuz' your kid threw up all over my Bentley."

"Not my kid." Tony corrected out of habit.

The whole room erupted in mock chuckles.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Clint give my love to the family. I'll give your Tylenol and cough medicine to Coulson." Happy answered.

"Thanks man."

Happy gave them a backwards wave.

"Keep it under 120." Tony ordered.

"No promises."

Tony's attention went back to Peter. He watched the young man lean against the back panel of the elevator. He gave him a tired wave. Tony returned it, but his smile left as soon as the door closed shut.

"He'll be fine Tony," Bruce insisted.

"He better be."


	6. Chapter 6

**Confession: When I loved a fanfic I would always get salty when the writer would take forever to update. "C'mon get it together I need my update". Now I understand it's really hard and no matter how much you edit or overthink, it's still not good enough. Plus life is a total jerk , there's never enough time. For all the writers I've silently cursed while awaiting their brilliance, I owe an apology. :) I hope you guys like it. Sam is in this one. Again I own nothing ( the shows quoted, the ****characters****, or the movies).**

**Wow you have a cute smile! I hope you use it at least once while reading this. tatata **

Chapter 6.

"Sorry to bother you," Peter mumbled sheepishly keeping his eyes on floor and off of Bucky's general direction.

"You're not bothering anyone come in," Bucky assured him.

Peter closed the door behind him, but didn't move any closer.

"Da... I mean Tony told me to come here, but if I'm in the way I can go back to the medbay. I just hate it down there because it smells like bleach and death. I hate it, but I can go back, like if it's a problem. I can take the floor or whatever you know? It's no big deal," He blabbered. On looking from the carpet to Bucky his dialogue changed directions. He pulled at a wavy lock of his hair analyzing it as if he had never seen anything like it before.

" You know I'm trying to grow my hair out, and now that I think about it I think it's because MJ said she liked your hair. Is that weird? It's nowhere near yours. Your hair is uh-may-zing, but it's nice right? Did you grow it out because Steve said he liked Thor's hair. Oh man, I'm really freaking tired. Floor please? "

Bucky noticed his word vomit was worse than usual. His eyes were dilated, and his usual tappy bouncy nature was all but gone. His world was for the moment in slow motion, though his mouth still moved it's same Peter Parker speed. Their perfect pupil all-around-goodie-two-shoes-baby hero was high as a kite. It would have been pretty funny under any other circumstances, but any fool could see that Peter was uncomfortable and scared. He got up to greet him properly, moving Natasha into a more comfortable position on the couch. He then made his way over to Peter. He helped him take off his shoes, and put his backpack on the hanging rack.

"No one's sleeping on the floor Pete. Nat's got one couch so it's either the love chair, spare bedroom, or my room. What'll it be ?"

Peter was relieved that after the longest day of his life he was finally hearing the word sleep and Peter in one sentence. He was only a few feet away now.

"The love seat's fine thanks."

Peter mirrored the backwards evolution of man as he went from standing, to slouching, to all fours across the soft leather, and then completed the total Spiderbaby meltdown as he wiggled and curled into nothing more than a giant feverball.

Bucky reached for one of the discarded blankets to throw over him when he realized how uncomfortable the teen must be. Why children these days wore pants as tight as they did he would never understand. There was no way Peter was comfortable in his outfit of skinny jeans, two shirts, and a hoodie ensemble. He went upstairs to find any clothes that would have a prayer of fitting Peter. He found a t-shirt that read " _Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica_" that he had accidently purchased in a small, but never had the heart to throw out. A pair of blue sweats with adjustable strings and clean fresh socks were added to the group. Tony sent him a message to make sure Peter had made it safely and updated him on their leads so far. He also gave him links monitoring Steve's and Peter's vitals. By the time he made his way back to the boy, he was a stone cold goner.

"Peter, wake up real quick."

Words didn't work so he tried succession of small pats on his back. Nothing.

"C'mon Pete," He ordered attempting to wake him by pulling him up by an arm and into a sitting position.

"No thank you. Sleeping!" Peter informed him pushing him away. As per usual his spider bite given strength was underestimated, and that "gentle" push sent Bucky to the ground with an oof.

"Alright then the hard way," Bucky said after getting over the surprise attack.

He pulled Peter up all the way making him stand on his feet.

"Arms up Peter," he demanded.

His eyes were still closed, but he obeyed the stern voice not sure exactly what was happening.

Bucky pulled off his layers and replaced them with clean t-shirt. The pants were harder. He asked Peter if he could change them by himself. He got a fit of giggles in response.

"Alrighty then."

Bucky shimmied and twisted him out of his jeans and into his sweatpants.

" The winter soldier just saw my underwear," Peter slurred in a mixture of awe and embarrassment.

"What underwear?"

Shocked Peter pulled at the waistband of his pants to see for himself. On finding his boxers in tact another round of giggles ensued. Bucky shook his head pushing him back down on the couch covering him up.

"Those feel better?"

"Mhmmmh thank you."

Peter buried his face back under his arms

" Okay get some rest."

"Yes sir."

"Good boy."

Two down one to go.

An hour later Steve shattered the heavy silence with the drop of his duffel bag and the slamming of the condo's door.

"Buck?" he called.

The other man looked up from his journal just in time to see a throw pillow hit Steve square in the face.

"Okay? Ow!" He glared at Natasha.

"At least she didn't throw the knives," Bucky shrugged.

Steve rubbed at his assaulted face. "I didn't know you had company." He peeked over the love seat only to see Peter in his tamale of blankets and extra large sweats. Steve arched an eyebrow at Bucky's two guests.

"Open a bed and breakfast while I was gone?"

"Something like that."

"I heard our floors on lock down," he reported while swinging his right leg over the armrest of the open recliner and resting his head against the other one. The recliner was massive, but Steve was even more so. He crammed his huge body onto the seat letting his other leg dangle off the back of the chair. Bulging arms criss crossed across his face to block out what little light there was coming in. He hadn't been sick in decades. Now he remembered how absolutely horrible it was. The tension in his head was unbearable on top of the fact that he was also nauseous and couldn't take a breath without rattling a chest full of phlegm.

"Buuuuucckk this sucks!" Steve groaned angrily.

Peter opened his eyes from across the way. Eyelids barely widening enough to form tiny slits.

"Mr. Captain Rogers Uncle Steve Sir?" he croaked.

"Yeah kid?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way but... for the love of all that is holy please _be quiet_. I'm dying over here."

Bucky laughed aloud. Peter had always been nothing but respectful, most days to the point of being annoyingly so. It felt like centuries before he had used their first names, and even then it was still accompanied with a Sir or a Mrs. or Ms. He was in a constant state of hero worship. Steve was second only to Tony in his admiration, which is why Steve was then recovering from shock at his comment. He gave his best friend one of his "kids these days" looks before doing exactly what the young avenger had suggested.

Bucky walked over to Steve tilting the recliner back so he could bring his face closer to him.

"Why aren't you at your place again?"

"Because if this thing ends up not being airborne, just a contact thing, we would only have to burn down one condo not two," his best friend reasoned with one of his famous All American apple pie smiles.

"What if I don't want you here? You think of that punk?"

Steve pulled the strings of his hoodie together so that only his nose and mouth were visible as a response. A smug grin still plastered across his face.

"Okay then."

Bucky's weight was on the recliner leaning it towards him, without warning he removed it allowing the chair to ricochet and throw Steve to the ground with it. He stayed there splattered against the plush carpet, then deciding it was much more comfortable than the chair, retaliated only by flipping his friend off for his prank. Bucky helped him make a pallet on the floor, before a phone call from Sam came in. He fished his phone out his pocket. A picture of pigeons head photoshopped to the falcon suit flashed on the screen.

"Hey, how's my favorite ex terrorist doing?" Sam asked as he left the living room so as not to disturb his guests.

"Okay, I guess. Besides the fact that I have an apartment full of sick superheroes hacking up all over my stuff, I'm peachy."

"Yeah, I heard. You feeling anything yet?"

"Not yet, you?"

"Nope, took the week off to visit my parents in Virginia. Happy met me at the airport with the germ guard, caught me up on everything. I should be okay,"

"Alright just be careful man it seems like someone is planting this thing in places they know we'll be."

Sam's end of the line sounded busy. The rest of the conversation was peppered with him asking for ingredients or saying excuse me.

"Where are you Sam?"

"At the store right now. I'm bringing dinner by."

"Picking up a few pizzas I hope."

"No sir, even better I'm making my some of my family's Famous Wilson Get Well Gumbo."

"Gumbo? Why gumbo?"

"Why the hell not gumbo? It's my mom's recipe, and it's delicious."

"Are you making it or Mama Wilson?"

"I am, and let me tell you its just as good."

"I doubt it."

"Keep disrespecting me like that and when you're licking your spoon dry, don't ask for seconds."

"Well I haven't made dinner yet, so I guess you can bring it over."

"Humph, I'm glad I have your permission," Sam retorted sarcastically.

"Everyone's congested anyway. It's not like any of them can taste worth a dam. It'll be fine."

"I'm hanging up."

"Wait, can you bring some more gatorade and kleenex?"

"Sure, what flavor gatorade?"

"Uh, the white one?"

"White Cherry or Glacier?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Is there a difference? Yes there's a difference you uncultured swine!"

"Then just bring both, I don't know Wilson?!"

"Caveman." Sam provoked.

"Imbecile." Bucky growled.

They had their usual mexican standoff of silence before one of them broke down, and decided to be nice again. Sam cracked.

"White glacier it you need anything else just text me."

"Will do Buddy thanks."

Bucky decided to make sides to supplement the meal. Sam knew the drill about cooking for supers. Quadruple the portions and then add two more just in case. He was sure the gumbo would be enough, but he couldn't stand around watching everyone else sleep like a weirdo. He decided on making sweet cornbread and salads.

He remembered his mother's apron speckled in faded daffodils and daisies. Her sweet voice echoed in his memories scolding him and Steve for running too close to the oven while they played cowboys and indians. The smell of Sunday cornbread filling the whole house. For times like those, he was glad Shuri had managed to keep the good ones.

Friday helped him pull up a recipe, and he got to work. Because of the nine pans of cornbread and eight tossed salads, Tony would later inform him that he experienced his first episode of anxiety baking. About that time Sam showed up at the door.

He was balancing six grocery bags and a huge pot of gumbo in his arms. He kicked the door close with his foot.

"Can I get some help over here!" Sam grunted.

Bucky emerged from the kitchen.

"Why? You're doing such a good job on your own."

Unexpectedly Dum-E came whizzing to Sam's side, taking some of the bags. Bucky was slightly offended that it hadn't offered to help him for the past two hours with cooking. In contrast it had immediately turned itself back on after hearing Sam's voice.

"Thank you hotbot at least _someone_ is useful around here." Sam took the rest of the things into the kitchen before returning to greet everyone properly.

Peter had woken up at some point, and in his search for human warmth was now on the couch with Natasha. His head rested in her lap while he watched one of the older Star Wars movies on low volume. Natasha sat with one hand in his hair and another typing away at her phone's keypad filling out a report from her last mission. Steve still was dead to the world under a mound of blankets.

Sam leaned against the back of the couch clearly jealous of Peter's position.

"Whaddya say Parker?"

"Hey, what're you doing here?" Peter croaked happily sounding like a fat frog lodged in his throat.

" Your ole' Uncle Sammy came to bring you dinner, making sure tin can man is taking care of y'all."

Peter piped up at the words. "Thanks, I'm starved."

"Haven't you been nauseous all day Pete?" Bucky wondered.

"I was. I am actually, but I threw up everything earlier," he tied a blanket around his neck like a cape and raised a fist in the air announcing, "I'm ready to be hurt again."

"What about you baby girl? How ya feeling?"

"I've been better Wilson," She smiled up at him performing their intricate handshake without skipping a beat.

"Well you'll be feeling at least twenty percent better after you try this gumbo. I guarantee it. I'll make you a plate," he said following Peter into the kitchen.

Bucky made it a point to catch her attention and in American Sign Language told her, "See this is what I mean. F.A.M.I.L.Y".

She looked away quickly, yet he knew she understood every word. Bucky gave Steve a gentle nudge with his foot. He turned to the side, but instead of waking up he only started snoring louder. Sam brought in a table tray piled with cornbread, a side salad and the gumbo, with a gatorade.

"Man I didn't even see Cap down there," He commented placing Natasha's food on the coffee table in front of her before joining Bucky in his quiet judgement of their Captain. Sam took out his phone and started recording. Bucky smacked at him.

"Hey I'm only a jerk if he ends up dying or something. A drooling Captain America? Now that's vine gold right there."

He recorded for a few moments before counting down from five then he bellowed, "Hey Sharon! It's good to see you!"

Steve sat straight up ready to bolt. He'd been avoiding Sharon like the plague since the airport incident. Naturally Bucky and Steve had tormented him about it.

"Oh so that's how it works!?"

"Oh yeah that's how it works compadre."

The two high fived each other over Steve's head.

"Har Har Har very funny," he shook his head then paused. "Is that Mama Wilson's Gumbo?"

"Yes siree. It's in the kitchen. Go get you some."

On the way to the kitchen Steve snatched the phone from Sam's hands lodging it deftly in between the couch cushions of the empty love seat.

"Dammit Rogers! You know sometimes you forget about that super strength. If my phone is cracked I swear you're paying for it pretty boy!" he exclaimed more worried about losing the video than his screen being cracked.

Everyone settled with their plates comfortably. Sam sat with his arm across the back of the couch, while Natasha nibbled contently. Peter was perched on the kitchen counter eating salad like there was no tomorrow with Steve right beside him.

"Hey are you going to eat Buck? It's actually really good," he questioned.

"_Actually_ really good?" Sam interrupted defensively. "Were you surprised?"

"Remember the popcorn?"

Sam threw his arms up in frustration.

"It's always about that stupid popcorn. That bag said three and a half minutes! So I left it in there for how long? Three and a half minutes."

"But when you started to see the smoke?" Peter reminded him chuckling.

"I can't control Tony's super robot microwave."

"The smoke was an indication to stop it though." Bucky contested.

Sam raised a fist in his direction.

Mid chuckle Bucky realized that he was hungry. He hadn't eaten since this morning. It had taken him months to get in the habit of eating at the right intervals. As the Winter Soldier,the assignment always came first, self care came later if at all. Old habits die hard. He had been so focused on everyone else that the growling of a very upset tummy was ignored. "Alright, alright I'll try it."

"You can't eat with the germ bubble thing on," Sam informed him. "I left you a plate on the common room floor. They just finished disinfecting it. The whole towers sealed off air vents, doors, elevators. All non essential personnel got sent home. You have to get through 15 minutes of sanitization and check ups just to get through. I'd take a shower and eat up while I was down there if I were you."

"Lemme guess. I can't take anything out of here either can I?"

"No, but I got you covered. I stopped by Academy and picked you up a change of clothes. What are you like a Triple X , Double D in the chest?"

"Damn straight."

Bucky double checked on their plates. Laying out the medicines and refilling there drinks before heading downstairs. He got on one knee beside Natasha.

"You need anything from downstairs?"

"No, I'm fine," she whispered perturbed by the special attention.

"Okay." he squeezed her knee gently.

"Peter don't let Sam touch my microwave."

"On it. No microwave for Falcon."

"You're a traitor Parker. You know that?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for Reading Gorgeous People. It Means So Much To Me- Cute Fluff To Follow. I'm heading toward a flashback into Bucky and Natasha's past in the next chapter. -**

Chapter 7.

He kept his aggravation at bay as a swarm of doctors stripped and evaluated him. He showered quickly not bothering to complain at the I Heart The Falcon shirt and bright pink joggers Sam had brought for him to wear. The gumbo went down in under a minute. He returned to his patients in record time.

"Back already?"

"Yeah, it was good. Thanks Sam."

Friday pulled up the health monitors as he requested while his eyes did their own quick eval of Steve, Natasha and Peter.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "What'd you think I couldn't handle it?"

"No. Of course. I mean handle what? Them?" Bucky asked hesitantly motioning to the other three in the room. "There's nothing to handle."

It wasn't convincing.

"Pfft and people say I'm the controlling one," Steve muttered.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Sam to handle the situation. He trusted him with his life. This was his mission though. He had promised Tony and Bruce he would watch out for them. If anything happened while he was away, it would be hard to forgive himself. High fevers could lead to convulsions even death. He had seen it, and this disease was unpredictable. Although everyone seemed relatively stable, according to Friday's updates they weren't improving. The prescriptions had lessened the intensity of the symptoms but that was all.

"Everything's okay mama bird. It's probably good you're back anyways. Happy called. Tony may have found a lead from the suit. We're going to go check it out."

"Sounds good let me know if there's anything I can do from here."

"No, I think you have your hands full. I'll keep y'all updated though."

They all said their goodbyes to Sam before Bucky rubbed his hands together announcing, "Okay now that he's gone I have good news and bad news. Bad news first. No one is allowed to leave tonight. It looks like you are all sleeping here or in the Medbay your choice."

"Says who?" Natasha challenged.

"Says Tony , the locked vents, and such."

"Hmm, maybe Friday was a tattle tale after all," she thought.

The good news was that he had room for everyone and would be ever so kind and gracious to allow them to stay.

" I hate the Medbay," Peter repeated for the thousandth time that day.

"So you can have the guest room."

Sam had helped him take his shot earlier so the drugs were back in his system and coursing through his veins at full speed. Peter was happy to retire for the evening. He waved goodnight to his fellow sickies, as he had affectionately been calling them, before following Bucky to the guest restroom. While the older man found a spare toothbrush and face cloth. Peter stood looking in the mirror for several long seconds before turning to him and saying, "That guy is looking at me funny."

"Who Peter?" he asked offhandedly rummaging through the drawers.

Peter pointed at his reflection.

"Oh my god. You can beat him up tomorrow. Let's get you to bed."

Finding Peter useless to help himself Bucky brushed his teeth, only telling him when to spit.

Realizing that the possibility of a shower was out he sat Peter down on the toilet, before wetting a cool cloth and running it over his face and neck to cool him down. He brushed his hair back and away from his face.

" Handsome." Bucky stated admiring his work. "Alright, try to go to the bathroom. I'll wait outside."

He soon became concerned with the "Pew Pew Pew" of fake gun sounds that ensued.

"That's going to be fun to clean up."

"I'm done!" Peter declared loudly from the inside of the bathroom.

"Wash your hands!"

"I did!"

"Okay? So come out then."

"I can't the door is in the way," Peter complained.

"Lord give me strength." Bucky muttered his face towards the ceiling.

Bucky twisted the handle allowing a very adorable, clean and dopey Peter to waddle out, happy to be led to the bedroom. Bucky pulled back the covers. He slid under them.

"You don't have to tuck me in," the teenager protested as he allowed the man to do just that.

The blankets were pinned around the kid's outline wrapping him in a perfect cocoon of coziness.

"I'm going to wake you up in a few hours for your other shot okay?"

"Mhmm okay. I'll be here."

He couldn't resist to ruffle his hair before turning out the lights. The room fell dark.

"Goodnight Peter."

"Wait Mr. Bucky!?'" Peter called in a slight panicky tone.

"Yeah kid, what's wrong?"

"Am I a bad Avenger?"

The timid question hung still in the darkness.

Bucky flipped the lights back on finding Peter's eyes wide and glossy.

He frowned.

"No, of course not. Why would you say something like that?"

He sat down on the corner of the bed.

"Because, I almost scared an old guy to death last night and then Bruce said if I was contagious I probably got a lot of people sick. They sent out a PSA because of... Me."

Peter's chin was touching his chest in disappointment. Bucky knew that the prescriptions were having an effect on him, but in the part of his brain that was functioning Peter was truly feeling guilty and worried. All of his feelings were amplified by his current condition.

He put a comforting hand across his chest.

"Pete, you're an amazing Avenger, and you want me to let you in on a little secret?"

The boy nodded.

"Every single one of us makes mistakes."

"No, you don't."

"Of course we do. We're just really good at fixing them and helping each other out."

"I don't believe you."

"No? Okay, for example last month Sam, Clint and I were on this recon mission and Sam flew too close to where Clint was shooting. You know what happened?"

Peter shook his head hanging on to every word.

"Sam got an arrow to the butt."

Peter started giggling.

"I can't make this stuff up. Sam dropped from the sky at like sixty miles per hour. I'm on the ground, no idea what's going on, trying to stalk the person I was chasing when Sam's big bird looking a*s comes crashing into me. My gun goes off. The bad guy spots my position and gets away. It took us days to track him down again. Who knows how much damage he did before we finally caught up with him."

"That's pretty funny."

"Yeah it wasn't then though, but you see that's what I'm trying to tell you Parker, being a hero doesn't mean you're going to be perfect all the time or get everything just right. It means that you don't give up . It means you do your best and learn from your mistakes just like any normal person does okay?"

"Okay." Peter agreed sounding much calmer.

"And for the record none of this is your fault. Some psychopath is just trying to mess with us and we're going to catch him. Your job is to get better and not to worry about anything deal?"

"Do you think we're going to die?" Peter questioned. This new thought began to work him up again.

"No, of course not," Tony answered bursting into the room in full color. He had been listening from the doorway and thought it was his turn to step in for reassurance.

Peter's face lit up on seeing his mentor.

"You know how I know that? Because I won't allow it. I'm Ironman and what I say goes understand? No one is dying. Got it?"

"No dying. Understood."

"Great now that that's settled. I've got it from here Barnes."

Buck leaned in as he passed him on the way out.

"What are you doing up here?"

"What? I came to tell the kid his Aunt is here and his friends are fine."

"But I mean I could've told him that," Bucky reasoned trying to get the other man to admit he just wanted to see the Peter, the boy he consistently confirmed was nothing more than his prodigy.

"Could you just...Please? Thank you," Tony waved his hands shooing him out the door.

Tony crossed the room and sat down.

"Feeling any better?"

"Mhmm not really."

"How are you here? I thought Bruce needed you?"

"He does. He can't live without me. Most people have that problem. It's exhausting,"

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Why're you worried about that? I have two hours off before I have to go back." Tony kicked off his shoes and climbed in beside Peter. " Now, we can watch a movie or should we try and get some sleep? Your choice. "

"Power nap?" Peter replied seeing how exhausted Tony was.

The billionaire was glad to hear it, but would have suffered through a movie with him knowing how even sleep sometimes could be miserable when you're that sick.

"Good call kiddo," He answered flicking off the bedside lamp before rolling over on his stomach.

He draped an arm across Peter's back allowing him to cuddle closer. He made slow circles against the small of his back until they both fell asleep. That's when Bucky finally closed the door, as he had been watching the pair from the tiny opening left in it.

"So freaking cute," he whispered to himself.

"Friday?"

"The picture is already saved to your phone sir."

"Excellent."

Back in the living room Steve and Natasha sat beside each other quietly bickering between themselves.

"It's just not possible for the U.S government's space program to pull off a successful space mission. The moon landing was a heist!" An older looking man sprouting greasy wild looking hair and too few teeth, shouted on the television.

Bucky noticed that his couch had been transformed into a king sized bed with the couch's back as it's was just full of surprises when it came his place that day. A camera in the t.v and now a transforming couch. All the blankets and pillows had been pulled from the floor and furniture, and they were now piled high making a comfy very strategic looking fort. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming like the sleepovers him and a much tinier Rogers would have when they were little.

"Pete's tucked in." Bucky informed. " You're still on this jazz Stevie?"

Shows dedicated to conspiracy theories were the blonde's latest obsession.

"This one makes complete sense," The super soldier said as if in a trance. " What if there are aliens?"

"Well buddy, you fought about a thousand of 'em so you should know."

Steve cocked his head trying to remember if that were true or not. Loading...loading...loading... loaded.

"Oh crap, yeah I did," he whispered in horror. "What is this world coming to?"

Natasha patted his shoulder.

"Maybe we should change the channel Cap, watching this stuff while your high can do you in."

" Captain America doesn't do drugs Natasha," Steve reminded her condescendingly.

They both gave him a knowing look.

"Well not those kinds of drugs."

"You're high off your fancy Stark painkillers. Just admit it."

"Am not!"

"Friday?"

"Yes ?"

Steve ducked his head as if something had been thrown at him. He looked at the ceiling with suspicion whispering, "Nat! I told you not to call that thing. She's watching us!"

Natasha gave him a sly smirk.

"Paranoia is always a fun a side effect."

"Alright, let up on the poor guy," Bucky defended. "Maybe you should try to get some sleep Steve?"

He wagged his head back and forth with adimmance.

" I am not sleeping with that thing watching me!"

"Fine suit yourself." Bucky shrugged. "Wait, is that a spider on your shoulder?"

He squinted at an imaginary spot on Steve's shirt.

Steve got at least got a good six feet off the ground before dusting at himself frantically.

" I knew I felt something! Bucky get it! Get it!"

"Okay hold still pal."

Steve did as he was told wincing at the imaginary creepy crawly making it's way up his neck.

Buck closed in on him raising his palm slowly and bringing it down with a light tap across his cheek. His very concentrated stare melted into a playful smile.

Steve blinked twice.

"There was no spider."

"Nope."

He jumped in what was Steve's spot beside Natasha.

Steve shook his head in disbelief. Grabbing a bag of doritos off the floor, he flopped in beside him.

"Move over losers," he ordered.

The two complied making room.

It was decided to turn the channel to something more stoner friendly. They watched season seven of The Office and teared up when Michael left.

"He's going to come back right? It's just a joke. Right Buck?" Steve choked out sadly.

"I don't think so pal. I don't think so."

"Pass the Kleenex please. You're not the only one with a runny nose you know?" Natasha complained. Suspiciously, she used the tissue for the corners of her eyes instead.

Steve's sinus pressure got so bad it morphed into a migraine which triggered the vomiting, and while Natasha managed to keep everything down for once that week her headache was just as bad . The lights were turned off and the T.V put on blue light filter mode until Steve finally fell asleep.

The cold medicine made Natasha's eyelids droop. Her mind begged to be flipped off, but the pain only seemed to get sharper with with eyes closed. She turned on her side , then the other, rolled onto her stomach, again on her back. A stuffy breath. A flip then a flop.

Too hot. The covers went off. The chills set in and the covers came back. Finally she gave up all together and sat up, with her back back straight against the headboard. Hugging a pillow to her chest, she buried her face in it as a silent plea for relief.

Bucky had watched as long as he could without commenting. Steve had been pushed to the very edge of the mattress and he had squeezed in close beside him, making sure the smallest of them had the most room. It clearly didn't make a difference in her discomfort.

He changed the sheets in his room and put out a selection of clothes for her to choose from. All of it in addition to making sure to put his journal and anything else embarrassing out of sight, including but not limited to the solo pictures of just him and Steve for good measure.

Taking the couch and allowing the lady to take the bed was the number three rule in the gentleman's guide of chivalry. However, this didn't make a difference in the fact that she wasn't happy to be trapped there with no say in the matter. After what this ragtag group of superheroes had been through words like sealed and lock down had unpleasant connotations even when it wasn't hostile. He didn't want to pressure her into moving to the other room , but couldn't stand the tossing and turning of her distress any longer.

He sat up beside her crossing his arms on top of his knees to put his head at the same height as hers.

"Would maybe being in your own bed help Natasha?" His voice came out softer than satin and weighted with regret for something he had not caused.

"What difference will it make?" She shook her head. "If I knew for sure that those extra strength prescriptions wouldn't kill me in an overdose, I would steal some of Steve's."

"And I would let you," he sighed in agreement.

He snaked his arm around the back of the couch allowing the woman to lean into him if she wanted. She glanced at the position momentarily warring with the side of her determined to keep away from him. Curling up under his arm, with head on chest was just way too much to process. So to compromise, she relocated his arm to his side and created the perfect dip in his shoulder. The crook fit her head as if a puzzle piece.

Two hours later you would find them in the same position. The only exceptions being that Bucky now sat slumped further down into the couch, her arm now curled around his bicep, and her right ankle slung carelessly across his shins.

"Dun dun da da da da duh... "

"Pum paaa pa da da da da..."

"Dun dun da da da da... "

"Pum pa da da da dum..."

They quietly harmonized the last few high notes of The Office theme song added a grizzly like snore for dramatic cinematic effect.

He passed her a cough drop sensing another coughing fit in the works while also pulling a blanket over his best friend's mouth catching a sneeze.

"Developing a sixth sense there Barnes."

"Thanks to you guys, I think I am."

"It's a nice addition to your resume."

Testing the waters he pressed a cheek to her hair. She didn't flinch this time and he took that as progress. The pressure of his presence was like a paperweight to the state of her body's chaos. It held down the fleeting racing thoughts and the pulse of pain so they didn't overtake her.

"I'm really sorry you're sick Nat. Not that I haven't enjoyed spending time with you, I just hate to see ya like this. I really do.

" It's not your fault. It never was."

Her quiet statement stretched back farther than the attack that week , beyond the horrors of Hydra and stopped at the exact point of their crossing paths in the distant past.

An apology of her own threatened to burst across her lips. An apology he would never know she owed. She would tell him one day, but not that night. Instead she would pretend that they had never met...had never murdered... had never mattered.

A silent Tony crept behind the pair and out of the door. He had never seen Natasha so relaxed... so trusting. He needed proof or Pepper would never believe him.

"Friday?" he whispered.

"The picture is already saved to your phone sir,"

**Sorry for any errors I'm still working out the kinks. Thanks for reading you're the best. I'll try to update within the next two weeks.**

**Bye for Now.**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Sorrrreyyyy. I cannot even begin to formulate excuses as to why the update has taken so long. I've been out of the country for the past two months. In addition I had a serious case of writer's block. You know when you take a selfie, and then you look at it for too long so it starts looking hella ugly? Well that's what happened with this little number. Instead of working on the new chapter, I went back to try to tweak the others.. Anyways anyways anyways. Here is the next chapter. Instead of making lofty promises, I'll just say I'm going to update when I can. However, I have started writing the next so you never know. :) Reviews, follows & comments make my day. _**

_**ThAnKs- Happy Reading Ya Gorgeous Being!**_

"Natalia! You.." A groan of pain cut him off. The next few words came with great effort."You have to go. He can't get away!"

Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and it had nothing to do with the escaping American scientist they were sent to kill. The soldier cradled his side. The thick dense heat that stuck to their clothes and the air around them was no contest for the boiling blood that pulsed through the spaces of his fingers. She remained frozen at his side. _A lucky shot._ That's what the Americans would call it. A lucky shot from a frantic man had taken her partner, her commander, to the ground. Everything had gone as planned up to that point. She had been chosen, the assignment given, the location set, and the target found.

The American scientist, who was now hiding in Rwanda, was to be confiscated of his research and ensured never to return home, courtesy of the Widow. He was suspected of working with the African government in securing a resource so valuable and rare that most who knew of it had been destroyed in their desperation for its recovery. So far her superiors were the closest in uncovering the secret of it all. Shield, being the only agency to compete in means of intelligence, was close behind. It was they who had sent Jeremy Withers to investigate rumors of its location. Catching him was her first mission as a graduate of the Redroom. Being the best of the best however did not seal her fate. If she was unable to complete it, death would be the punishment just like any of the others. She was to prove herself worthy of the title, and that is what the soldier had been assigned to decide. Now he lay there in a pool of his own blood.

"If I leave you here you will die."

He knew this. She could read the truth clear in his face. There was a trace of fear followed by immediate acceptance.

" I said go!" He barked.

She fell back one step towards the rocky mountain terrain. She could catch their target if she left now. The dense jungle at the edge of the city swallowed Withers temporarily from site yet, the thicket of trees ahead was only an obstacle course. She was good at those, her aim was sharp. The kill would be an easy one. The minutes it took to find him, however, would be soldier's last. He would bleed out without medical attention. She had the map of the area memorized and knew it well. The nearest hospital was only eight miles away. Hot wiring a vehicle would not take long . If they could slow the bleeding, he might make it.

"Go!" He ordered again weakly in her hesitation.

His lips were now speckled with drops of blood. She listened. She left. Feet creating dust clouds behind her as she scoured the streets for reliable transport. An old military jeep was parked outside of a small store, with the soldiers distracted, she quickly moved the wires in the right places and started the engine.

She raced back to him, the assignment all but forgotten. She found the dirt beneath him swirling with black. He had removed the hand pressing against the wound, rushing the inevitable.

She fell back to his side leaving the jeep idling behind her.

"Stop that!" she ordered frantically in Russian.

She ripped her top shirt off using the sleeves to wrap somewhat around him and in hopes to staunch the bleeding.

He gawked at her while weakly fighting against her prying fingers .

"You shouldn't be here! I told you to run."

"And I told you to stop. Stop. Fighting. Me " she growled.

He wanted so badly to sleep. His vision had already begin to spot. The bullet lodged somewhere inside his gut was keeping him from bleeding out quicker, yet he felt nothing. Sweet nothingness. After so much pain he could finally rest. Even in cyro he never felt such calm, awaking agitated and confused as if he had never slept at all. This he welcomed, closing his eyes and letting his hand drop. The hot sun wasn't burning him anymore. It was just bright spot of light behind his eyelids. Soon that would be gone too. Death. He waited for it. Now here she was trying to save him. Making the wound scream in protest. Pushing it to the Forefront of his mind.

"You are going to be fine. It didn't hit anything vital or you would already have been dead, but we need to get the bullet out. Can you stand?"

He didn't answer searching desperately for the calm he was so close to finding. A hard hand came across his cheek. Fury blazed within him. She was taking him away from his peace.

"Just go," he begged.

She thought this plea was dedication to the mission running deep. Not understanding that his death was in no way a noble sacrifice, but instead a choice purely selfish. In her mind that is why she needed to save him. Even if she caught the scientist, the death of the soldier would mar the success of it. She had not graduated at the top of her class to pull a sloppy job on her first assignment. She would save him, and then end the chase on Jeremy Withers.

She knew him being enhanced bought her more time than if she was dealing with a normal gunshot wound, and he knew that she was determined not to let him die. The part of his brain that was still functional agreed with her and screamed for survival. With that a shaky hand reached up to regain his footing. Her small frame only disguise as a she's supported most of his weight into the car. Leaning the passenger seat back as far as it would go, she moved his legs into the car behind the rest of his body and shut the door in haste.

He did his best to maintain consciousness as the jeep bobbed and weaved through the crowded streets. She screamed profanities at the ones who moved too slow. The reds, greens,yellows and oranges of clothes that belonged to the rich brown and black skin of the crowds, began to swirl together. The blue sky darkened as his vision left him. He gave the last few seconds of his awareness to the woman beside him. A white tank hugged her body splattered with blood and dirt. Hair on fire,with a face too young to see the horrors it had.

_"Does the pretty lady care for a dance?" _A voice so familiar yet, so foreign echoed in his head.

_An old jukebox played somewhere in the distance. It's twangy melody, piercing through the smoke of a dimly lit room. _

That charmed voice was his own once.

What had happened?

"This isn't where I belong," he thought.

_"I'm lost and I'm dying."_

Then darkness overtook him.

-xoxo-xoxo-xoxo

Still half asleep, Buck wrapped an arm around the nearest warm body pulling it closer to his chest. A ways down a heavy weight had his legs pinned against the mattress below. He could feel the pins and needles starting to prick his limbs, waking him up in the first place. He shimmied Steve off of his legs, before moving Natasha's very short (?) hair off her forehead to check the temperature. Suddenly, something wet swept across his palm startling him.

"Did you just lick me?"

"Maybe?" Peter replied innocently.

"Peter?!"

"Yes?" He groggily answered, as if him being sprawled out on top of the Winter Soldier was the most normal thing ever.

Bucky sighed. He didn't bother asking why he was there, or how the little one was feeling. Peter was a natural born cuddler, especially with the way his body and mind were reacting to the medicine. He needed to be close to someone. Waking sometime after Tony left, he found the puppy pile of Avengers, and joined.

"I thought you were Natasha." Buck sighed while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Oh, so that's why you were getting handsy with me?" The teen cackled.

That earned him a shove, relocating him to the opposite side of the couch.

"Go back to sleep Pete."

Peter chuckled, curling around the armrest instead.

Looking around the living room he realized the woman was nowhere to be found. The TV displayed a blank screen other than the time of 7:06 A.M. Four hours of sleep would have to do in getting him through the long day ahead.

He started a pot of coffee before checking the guest bed and bathroom for Natasha. All was quiet and empty. He figured the night's close encounters may have triggered her flight mode.

"Should've been more careful." He grumbled to himself climbing the staircase in search of a shower.

He halted outside his doorway. Someone had beat him to it. The water was running inside. Enhanced hearing picked up the soft frothing of body wash through a lufa.

He entered the room with caution, keeping his gaze to the floor.

"Natasha?" He called.

A moment passed without a reply.

" Uhh it's me. I was just coming to get some stuff before heading downstairs." No answer came. He added a concerned. "Are you okay?"

She poked her head from behind the shower curtain. Answering finally with a quiet, "I'm fine. I thought I'd leave the downstairs bathroom open. I really needed a shower. I hope that's okay? "

"It's fine. Make yourself at home."

"Kay," she tucked her head back under the scalding water.

Bucky did his best to keep his mind on chaste things as he gathered everything besides his toothbrush. He decided to wait on the now sealed veranda until the bathroom was clear.

There was a subtle tapping on the glass behind him.

Natasha though fully dressed stood dripping wet, waving him in with a brush in hand. His plaid flannel shirt that hung loosely on her frame darkened where blotches of water soaked through.

Her body burned and ached in places she forgotten had existed. The hot shower seemed to loosen muscles at the time, but on leaving it, her limbs again started to stiffen. Slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of leggings was a feat in itself. Huffing down onto the bed she held the brush up in his direction completely defeated.

Knowing how hard it was for someone like her to ask for help he took it without comment. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom before gingerly drying the rest of her hair and wrapping it around her shoulders. He worked on the knots quietly being as gentle as possible.

"So how bad is it?" He inquired when the final curl was tamed.

"Remember the time Clint and Sam bet a hundred bucks they could do the same workout as you and Steve?"

"I do."

" And then they couldn't move for two days?"

"Mhhmm."

"Like that. "

"Well I had little sisters growing up. So I know..." he reached for the two hair ties around her wrist, "all about this."

Ten minutes later two neat fishtail braids were completed. Natasha had to admit she was impressed. Not just with the mans braiding skills, but with the reminder of his gentle nature. The small bite of his lip as he concentrated was the same he used when taking aim through a scope. To her neither occasion was less adorable than the other. How such warriors like he, Clint, and T'challa could be so fierce yet so genuinely kind, was somewhat of a confusing conundrum.

"Whaddya' think?"

Their eyes met in the mirror closest to them.

Ruby lips simply quirked in response.

"It's pretty. Thanks, James."

Bucky couldn't remember her ever calling him by his nickname, let alone his first name . There was something intimate and warm in it... something about it that he liked.

" You're very welcome Natasha." He whispered while slowly twisting a piece of her hair between his fingers.

A throat cleared awkwardly from behind, causing them to jump apart like teens caught under the bleachers.

Peter, the cause of the noise, stood at the door with a slow mischievous smile spreading across his face. He wagged a finger between the two of them.

"Oh I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" They both answered a little too quickly.

Bucky picked up his things to head downstairs. Trying and failing to ignore the spider-teen all together.

"What do you want kid?"

"I couldn't find the toilet paper," he shrugged.

"Of course you couldn't. Come on, I'll show you." As he tugged Peter after him, he told Natasha that his room was hers as long as the quarantine lasted.

She thanked him, looking around the room in silent appreciation.

"Oh and Natasha?"

"Yeah?" She turned towards him.

"The shirt? I like it."

He winked.

Closing the door he missed catching the blush that spread across her cheeks. A rare thing for her.

She buried herself beneath his sheets. Enveloped in the scent she loved, sleep found her.

_**Hey you read to the end. Amazing. I like you. If your anxiety has been a jerk today, you accomplished more than you know. Including but not limited to finishing a whole fanfic chapter. I'm impressed. Until Next Time. Buh-bye. **_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi my Lovely Darlings. Thanks so much for the awesome reviews. Hope you enjoy this next chapter. **

**-FlashBack-**

The next time he woke his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. Side a dull throbbing instead of the searing pain of a hot knife like before. An old fan made slow lazy circles above him_. _

_Whickety-whick-whickety -whick_ over and over again.

He reached for his side, finding it bandaged and clean. The irritating pinch from an i.v pricked at the crook of his arm. The foreign rise and fall of a dialect he hardly understood flitted through the room, while dingy white curtains cornered the section off from the rest of the patients.

"He will be fine. The bullet was removed and the bleeding has stopped," a heavy accented voice informed someone nearby. There was a pause, a hesitation on the doctor's part as he continued. "May I ask the nature of your work here?"

The click of a gun's safety was removed.

"I'd prefer if you didn't," Natalia answered calmly. "I can assure we don't mean you or your people any harm. As long as he lives, we will leave in peace."

"Peace," he scoffed. "That's what they all claim. Peace only follows war, and even then it means nothing. It seems you know this fact well."

"I do. Yet my promise is the same. There will be no record of our stay here. Only you and the nurse will come in and out of this room. We leave after dark."

"He is not ready to be moved!" The man objected.

"Then make him ready. Give me whatever is needed to keep him alive for the next few days."

"Impossible! We keep a stock of all the supplies. I can't just give you materials unauthorized. Especially when your records will not exist."

The woman slid a wad of cash from the side of her waistband, and in between the clamp of the doctor's clipboard.

"I trust you will do whatever is necessary."

Licking his lips in deliberation he appraised the offer. Greed won out. He nodded.

"I will prepare what you need."

"Thank you for your cooperation." An eerie smile was given. Unknowingly she would use this phrase for the rest of her life. An acknowledgement to all parties that she had gotten her way. The man left the room in an uneasy haste.

Her facade of confidence dropped as soon as the curtain closed. _What had she done?_ She knew they were to check in with their handlers in six hours for extraction. Jeremy Withers was to be executed and his work retrieved. She massaged her temples gingerly, whispering to herself in Russian.

"You should've left me," The soldier stated bluntly.

Her pacing stopped to glare at the man.

"Well I didn't."

" And now you've killed us both." he informed her in a scathing tone.

"You don't know that."

"You're right. What they have planned for us. You will _beg_ for death. "

"We can still complete the mission."

His free hand slammed against the railing of the bed. She didn't know he wished for death. Every day suffering moments of conflict and struggle where his conscience of heart would try to claw its way to the top. No amount of brainwashing could replace the anguish of the person he lost. He mourned for him without knowing him.

He was a weapon not a man, and he was malfunctioning. Being so close to escaping it all, just to be pulled back to the same hurricane of confusion and anger was just too much. He hated her for this. He wanted to hurt like he was.

"This was about more than that! You were to prove yourself. All you proved was that you're still weak. You are nothing, just like the rest of them. " he spat.

The words stung yet, she ignored them. She wasn't Ana who broke under the torture. and strangled herself with her ballet slippers. Nor Olivia who cried at graduation upon realizing what it was. No she was strong, different, resilient no matter what. She would win as always. She would survive, and she would do it with him.

"Well you're alive for now," she stated simply. " I'm completing the mission with or without you. You can stay here and let them find you. Or you can stop your whining and come with me." She dictated turning as if to leave.

"Wait," he struggled when the curtains obscured her from view.

She returned with arms crossed.

"I don't trust the doctor." he lamented quietly.

"Neither do I."

Pulling a duffel bag from under his bed, she yanked out a clean black shirt and threw to him. After a second of hesitation he began to push himself into sitting position cradling his side.

"What's in the bag?" He grumbled still upset by the ultimatum given to him.

"Pain meds, antibiotics, . Enough to keep you stable for the next forty-eight hours."

"I thought that's what he left to get?"

"Yes. . I gave him just enough time to call the authorities. And for us..." She dangled a pair of car keys from her index finger. " To steal his car."

He had to admit she was smart. Instead of going out guns blazing as he would've, she found a much quieter exit. One that kept their cover in tact.

"Don't look so impressed. I had to do something while you were in surgery."

Giving a curt nod , he bit his cheek through the pain of dressing himself.

He seethed at the sight of the wheelchair she presented. He pushed to his feet in pride, kicking it away.

"Don't be stupid."

A quick slap landed across her cheek. "Don't forget who you're talking to, girl!"

She paused for a moment before answering, "I would never."

Her words dripped with false sugar before she rammed the chair into the backs of his knees forcing him down.

He let out a vicious growl.

Bending down to his level she mused. "It's as you taught me солдат time is always of the essence. Never waste it."

She had thrown a pink scrub outfit over her dirty clothes, giving the appearance of a nurse transferring a patient to another wing. They made their way quietly through the back hallways and out into the parking lot. Easily finding the car in question, they loaded themselves in, beginning a long drive through the city. She carefully scanned the roads, matching the street signs with the map she had memorized. The soldier lost patience as the silent ride seem to stretch. The drugs from the surgery had begun to wear off, causing the pain in his side to grow every second.

"Will we drive in circles all night?" He taunted twisting uneasily in the passenger seat.

"I know where I'm going."

Silence again. He was used to calling the shots on missions. It being the one thing he had control over. Now this _child_ was acting as if she was in charge. Saving his life had changed their dynamic. It wouldn't do.

Jerking the wheel with his medal hand, the car swerved dangerously into oncoming traffic, breaking her concentration.

"And where is that?" he asked through gritted teeth missing a truck by inches.

She glared at him until his grip loosened.

"The doctor is scheduled for a double shift. If he called the police, the last place they'll look is his home which is in a gated community just over the hills. The guard should recognize his car and let us in. If he happens to come home early or a nosy neighbor drops by... well we have ways to keep them quiet. Is that plan okay with you commander or would you like to suggest something else?" She added almost sarcastically.

" Just hurry up," he snapped glaring out of the window and into the night.

She rolled her eyes. " If all men are this way. I will never have a problem falling in love. Useless emotions for useless men. This could be a downfall for a widow, and it will clearly not be mine." She thought to herself.

She found the place easily. The guard let them in without question, as the windows were tinted and the night growing increasingly dark. The garage door opened and slid shut behind them. She shot the lock off the door, deftly hacking the alarm system before it alerted anyone of their presence .

She pulled the blinds closed and disconnected the telephone service keeping only the smallest lamps on for light. The soldier made his way over to the living room couch, careful not to shift the weight of his injury, and sat watching her like a mouse in a snakes den. She pulled out the supplies and constructed the poles in his i.v. The antibiotics were set to a ground his teeth uncomfortably as the pain in his side came close to unbearable. Advanced healing didn't mean that the experience was any less agonizing .He felt his insides ripping, closing, and repairing as fast as they could. Skin, ligament, and muscle tearing and fusing back together again. A groan escaped his lips involuntarily.

She cocked her head at the noise, observing him closely.

"What are you looking at?" He barked.

"Nothing. I'm going to survey the house and get cleaned up. Will you remain conscious that long?" she questioned holding out a gun. He took it.

"Of course."

"Good. I'll be back in twenty."

The Widow searched the house. Looking for entrance and exit points that might be needed. She locked the upstairs and downstairs windows, and scoured the cabinets and drawers for anything useful. After careful search she found what she needed. Picking up the telephone, she inserted a special chip for contact behind the battery and detached the wires. There was no dial tone. Just the abrupt appearance of someone on the other end of the line.

"You're early. Is it done?" Asked a heavily encrypted voice.

"No. There was a setback. " she answered calmly trying to keep the fear from reaching her words.

"Unacceptable. Explain." The man ordered.

"The soldier was shot. Withers was heavily armed. We had no knowledge of this."

"Where is he now?"

"He is currently running through the hills on foot. He has no backup and no supplies. He will not get far. I'm only calling to inform you that we will need extraction in seventy-two hours instead of twenty-four."

"The job will be done in forty-eight. Either he will be dead or you will. Understood?"

"Yes Sir."

"Does the солдат live?"

"He does."

"I hope saving him was worth it." The voice menacingly spat. At that the line went dead fading into a dull static, and ice water replaced the blood in her veins. The best solution for that was a hot shower. There were only a few women's things there, probably mementos of an ex girlfriend.

The scalding water rinsed the blood and dirt from her skin. Every soapy ministration helped to clear her mind a bit more. After drying herself off she slipped on the finding of clothes. The pair of shorts and a sleep shirt did the job quite nicely hugging her figure in a way that made her feel safe and more herself. When you can't hold it together sometimes an ensemble of tight clothes will do the trick, even if the feeling of security is only imagined.

She exited the bathroom bringing a steaming container of soapy water and wash cloth with her. The soldier had his head thrown back across the back of the couch, his breaths uneven and shallow. He didn't hear her come in.

She felt a pang of pity for him. Maybe he was right, in a way, she was still weak. Weakness for people like her were in pity, hesitation, and most dangerously love. She had learned to harden herself to most things, but conscience ingrained empathy for the suffering of another human being hadn't been fully eradicated.

"Do you need something for the pain?" she questioned.

His head snapped in her direction.

"No. I'm fine." He grumbled sitting upright and feigning a vigilant watch.

She sighed, "Are all men stubborn like you. Or is it just a characteristic of Hydra"

"A question you should know the answer to."

"My father was kind. I think." She mused. " I can't remember much of him. I do know that all the rest have been cruel, harsh, and unforgiving at best. I've come to believe that they are all this way. I'm not sure, that's why I asked."

"Did you check-in?" he asked ignoring, what to him, was a very strange question.

"Yes."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth. That you were hurt, but the mission would be completed."

"What did they say?"

"As we expected. It is our lives, or his." she stated simply.

"How do you expect to fix this?"

I will leave tomorrow morning. I'll hire a few trackers for good measure then find him and do what needs to be done."

"It won't be that easy."

"It has to be." She affirmed.

The doctor could not get far on foot. His expertise was in science and technology. Running and hiding in the jungles of Africa was not his forte. S.H.I.E.L.D, had no way of knowing he was in danger at this point, and it would stay that way.

She sat beside him removing the pills from their containers and placing a cold glass of water in front of him.

"I'm not taking those."

"You need your rest. You're body is trying to heal itself."

"Then let it heal. I'm not stopping it. " He argued.

"I'll be awake the rest of the night preparing. You should rest. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"That's very sweet," he huffed sarcastically. "No, I will stay awake."

"You will need your strength for tomorrow. If anyone discovers us here. You have to be ready to move quickly or defend yourself."

She was met with silence.

"Look you are still my commander. Even if I am successful with Withers. My life is still in your hands upon evaluation. I need you, and unfortunately right now you need me. Please can we stop being foolish, and trust each other. Even if it's just for this once."

There was truth in her words. His body was exhausted, not knowing how long he could remain conscience even if he tried, he sighed. It was a sign of compromise.

"I will rest but only for a few hours."

He swallowed two of the pills. With his metabolism it would not keep him under for less than six hours. Just enough time to see her off in the morning. Immediately he began to relax as the medicine dulled the pain. He kept his hand on his gun with the trigger ready to pull.

A cloth of warm water startled him just as he was drifting off.

"What are you doing?" he asked words slurring a bit and off the tongue.

"I'm cleaning you up."

"That's not necessary." He tried to duck away from her hand, but the movement caused his side to throb.

"Grime and sweat will seep right through the bandages. The wound will be more susceptible to infection." She informed him calmly. "Just relax."

She gently wrung the cloth out again wiping it through his face and hair then behind his neck. Helping him to remove his shirt she cleaned as much of the visible area as she could.

He again was watching her. Not predator and prey like as before. Just a sense of curiosity played behind his eyes.

"Does that feel better?" she questioned.

"Yes... thank you."

Usually HYDRA was full of poking, prodding, and pain when he was injured. There was never anything gentle about it. Him bathing was only done in absolute need, and even then it was more like drowning him in cold chlorine water.

This felt nice. Familiar yet foreign all at the same time.

Suddenly her face changed to someone else's. Brown soft eyes replaced green. Curly brown hair pinned back, materialized instead of red. Tiny pink lips instead of red matched the dress new lady wore.

"_No playing ball today honey. You're staying right here in bed until the fever goes down. Shht now James." A warm cloth was placed on his forehead. " You stay right there. I'll be back. "_

"_Ma?"_

"Did you say something?" Natalia asked pausing.

Her face melted back into view, as the other woman walked away and into another room that no longer existed. He watched her go, extending his arm to catch her as she disappeared into a corner of his mind he couldn't reach.

The assassin sat confused as to why the man was suddenly reaching out to her. Taking his hand she held it for a moment before placing it back to his side. Instead of letting go, he gripped it like a lifeline. Eyes wide and glossed over.

"What's wrong солдат ?" She feared he was going into shock.

Sense seemed to return. He let go as quickly as it had started, pressing a hand to his temple instead.

"Nothing. Nothing. Need sleep." he mumbled.

"I'll help you lie down."

They maneuvered him into a more comfortable position. Covering him with a blanket, she turned out the desk lamp. The pistol was situated protectively on his chest.

"I will wake you if anything. Please rest." She whispered, turning to leave.

"Wait!" he shouted clutching at her wrist.

"Yes?"

"The cloth. Leave it." He ordered.

A line between her two eyebrows deepened for a moment, but she did as she was told.

After swishing the cloth in the now slightly murky water, she wrung it out deftly, folded it, then handed it over.

Turning it over in his hands, he placed it across his forehead visibly shaking under its touch.

Right then she witnessed something, she never thought she would see in any man of HYDRA. Thinking it impossible. _Fear. _She was witnessing fear externalized.

The realization was unsettling. He didn't fear death, but he feared this. Something. Something inexplicable to her at the time. She felt no disgust, as she had been taught to feel about such things as emotions. Instead a sadness ate at the pit of her stomach. And for a moment, she wanted to help. To talk about what was bothering him, as she sometimes she longed to do while sitting in the darkness of her cell at night. She didn't though, not because she didn't want to, but because she was unsure how. People like them didn't converse. They killed, and they internalized. She had a mission to do, and no time to sympathize. Instead of speaking she took the cloth, and adjusted it from his forehead to over his eyes. Pressing the heat into the pressure point in between them. He let out a deep breath, as it worked to soothe him.

"Thank you," he said in more of a whimper than a statement, while placing a shaky hand over her own.

"You're welcome. Good night, солдат," She answered quietly removing herself from him.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest signaled his eventual slumber.

"Just rest. All will be well tomorrow." she whispered.

She prayed.

**If anyone hasn't told you today. You're loved. Great Smile. Look At you Slim thick with your Cute Self 3**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks guys you're just the sweetest. I couldnt help it! I had this convo bouncing around my head all day. I couldn't sleep at 2 am, and decided to not it down before I forgot. This story does have a plot to it.. Hopefully I get there soon. I can have a balance right? Writing is therapeutic when your anxious. Happy reading thanks for the support! **

**-xo -xo**

Bucky left his "patients" to sleep for another couple of hours while he started his day. After a shower he found the common room occupied by one tired billionaire hunched over his holograms.

Coffee cups surrounded the man in disarray. A soft gurgling sound was heard in the kitchen followed by the splat splat splat of something dripping on the marble tile.

Bucky found the cause to be a rushing torrent of coffee from an abandoned espresso machine. Cleaning the mess, and putting what he could salvage in a styrofoam cup, he handed it to Tony.

"Stark," he acknowledged.

Tony looked up briefly, nodding in thanks.

Arms crossed. "How's it going? Any leads?"

"Uhhh no.. not really. I'm leaving the medical mumbo jumbo to Bruce and the rest of the goons.

If we can just get a trace on where it's coming from. That would help," He said running a tired hand across his face as a groan of frustration escaped."I've been running through all the locations of our missions. We've been all over the place, anyone could've picked it up anywhere, and the symptoms could have been dormant for weeks if not months."

"So you haven't been able to narrow it down at all?"

"Yeah.. Yeah I've ruled out two continents actually," He reported.

"Which are?"

"Africa."

"Mhmm."

".. and Antarctica. And I'm not even sure if I could rule that one out because I'm pretty sure Clint took Steve there to play with penguins last month or something stupid like that!"

"I can confirm. They did the polar plunge thing. The pictures were amazing."

"Great, so just Africa. I'm done." he threw up his hands in frustration before chugging his coffee like a madman. "I can't. I just can't. Someone is doing this, and their hiding their tracks so damn well."

"Okay Stark, calm down. It'll be okay. Everyone's stable for now, and we'll figure this out."

"Everyone is stable for now, but the virus is getting stronger the longer it's in their systems. Cooper is in the hospital now. They can't get his fever down for shi'. It's only a matter of time, and we're running out of it."

"Okay what about Peter?"

Tony sighed, " His school and his house were clean of it. So it had to be when he was on patrol. Let's face it, I love Newyork, but it's filthy and the kid is practically rolling in it every night."

"Well he only started feeling bad yesterday. Can you track his suit from that night and back for anything suspicious?"

Tony gave him a look that said 'of course I did that already idiot', but answered anyways.

"Karen's been running diagnostics non-stop, there was nothing out of the ordinary."

Bucky began to pace scratching at his chin.

"It doesn't seem strange to you that they all started displaying symptoms at the exact same time? I mean they could've done it gradually, planted it, picked us off one by one. Everyone must of been exposed in the same time frame. All except Pete."

"He started the night before yesterday." Tony affirmed off-handedly.

"Right, whoever it is, wants as many of us down at one time. Whether they're planning an attack or just revenge. Either way killing five or six at once would hit hard."

"So, the exposure had to be recent," the genius agreed, beginning to follow the line of thought

"Maybe that night even?"

"But Karen said there was nothing out of the ordinary."

" He did mention something about almost killing somebody."

"Impossible.I looked at the footage. He went home early."

"Well he definitely mentioned almost killing an old man. I didn't take much notice of it, because they were all acting a little loopy last night. "

Tony moved his hands expanding the hologram, so they could both analyze it.

"Karen pull up all of the locations Peter went last night."

"Yes boss."

"Glossy red and blue lines matched Peters trajectory as he swung through the streets of Queens. Black dots marked where he had landed. The last black dot rested at a bank on twenty-first street, and from there he had gone straight home just like Karen had said.

"Karen run diagnostics again?"

"It's like I said boss. He had a very uneventful night." Karen reported sounding almost exasperated.

"I'm telling you he said something about it Stark. That's why he had his boxers in a bunch about being an Avenger."

Tony read his face seeing truth in it.

"Friday call Peter for me please."

"He's asleep boss."

"Yeah I figured. Just get his attention. It'll only take a minute."

They waited a few seconds before a very groggy Peter answered the phone, "Hello this is Spider Parker... I mean Peter Man... Oh boy."

High as a kite.

"Pete?" Tony called out. "This is dad, can you hear me?"

Eyebrows shot to Bucky's hairline. Dad?

Tony caught his slip and mimicked a knife to Bucky's throat, if he didn't shut up about it.

"Hey, this is Peter can I help you?"

" My god, I know everything's kind of foggy right now but I need you tell me about the last patrol you went said you had mentioned something about almost killing someone?"

"Oh yeah. I did." Peter lamented.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's soooo embarrassing."

"Have you seen Clint and Scott? Embarrassing is part of the job kiddo. Now spill it ."

"Well I swung around a lot that night. It was super slow."

"Yeah I can see that." Tony said following the dots and corresponding videos with his finger.

He paused on the scene of spiderman coming out of a chineese restaurant, greasy bag bulging with unidentified food in hand. A heavy set chineese woman smiled and waved as he swung away and into the city.

"Wait, did you go to the Golden Palace that night?"

"Maybe," Peter answered quietly knowing good and well Tony had banned him from there.

"That place made you sick a few months ago!"

"I know but it was just a bad batch. The spring rolls are amazing!"

"I don't want to hear it. Maybe that's why you're puking your guts out underoos?!"

"No it's not!"

"Boys sorry to interrupt, but this is definitely not food poisoning so you can yell at him about that later." Bucky adjourned.

"Okay, after that Karen alerted me about a bing alarm going off on 21st Street. I went to check it out, " Peter continued.

" Yep, stayed on the roof and went home after 20 minutes right?" Tony confirmed looking at the information.

"No, I went to check it was weird because the alarm was on full blast, but I couldn't find any action. Like no one was trying to break into anything."

" Wait Karen why am I not seeing video any of this?"

A pause.

"Unfortunately I have no record of Peter entering into the building sir," she answered uneasily.

"Is that true?"

" Nope, I definitely went in I scaled the walls for a little bit, until I saw a janitor. I should have known something was up because he acted like the alarms weren't even on. I swung down to ask him about it, and I spooked him. I tried to apologize, but I had already messed up pretty bad. The police finally came in with one of the managers. It was a false alarm."

"Karen?" Tony questioned.

"I am sorry sir I have no recollection of the encounter."

" Friday can you bring up anything from inside the bank?"

"Yes sir. The quality is quite bad though."

Just as Peter said you could see him scaling the ceiling just before jumping down and frightening the older man as he pushed his cart through the hallway.. It was a good thing Clint had taught all of them the basics of American sign language. (And most of the bad words too. much to May's displeasure. )

"Something is definitely not right. It's like Karen was shut off or put on sleep mode while he was there."

"Smells like a trap to me," Buck said.

"Can you pull up the man's face, or the face of any of the police officers that were on site?"

"Unfortunately the cameras we're not able to capture the janitors face at any time during the night. Even during the altercation with Peter it seems the camera pointed at the man's face was disabled." Friday informed them. "I do have information on the first responders."

"Someone must've hacked into the suit. Jammed Karen's operating system somehow." Tony realized.

"I'm starting to think that man wasn't as deaf and helpless as he seemed."

As they watched the video playback in slow motion, Bucky noticed the spray of cleaner was aimed with accurate precision at the teens' nose and mouth. Instead of a mist of solution leaving the bottle, as you would need to clean a window or surface, a jet stream setting was used.

"His suit should have activated a filtration system if it sensed he had come in contact with dangerous chemicals." Tony argued.

"True, but if Karen was disabled she would not have had the information to determine that the chemicals were dangerous in the first place, right?" Bucky reasoned.

The genius agreed starting to get antsy about what this suggested.

"I'll get Sam to pick up Peter's suit and see if there's any residue of the virus still on it. Happy can track down the employee to see if hes legit or if he's working for our villain. Peter, honey? You did great. You can go back to sleep now." Tony commended.

Unknown to them the teen had fallen asleep minutes ago.

Tony rubbed his hands together.

"Well that's that." He commented. "and that is not good. Karen me and you are going to have a serious conversation. Hacking you shouldn't be possible."

"Yes sir. I know sir," she answered.

The man started waving his hands ordering holograms around and moving images from one side to the other trying to get any angle he could on the new information. The more he saw the more worked up he became he became. He began walking in circles without actually going anywhere pulling at his hair as he went.

"My God have to go. I have to go." He repeated in a frenzy. "This isn't good. Whoever this is. They're are a hell of a lot smarter than we thought. I have to go back to the lab and..."

Bucky could smell a mental breakdown a mile away, and Tony was on the brink of it.

Catching Tony's shoulder in a strong grip he turned the man toward him, before grasping the other shoulder in the same hard hold.

"Tony?"

Seemingly unaware of his restraint. The billionaire was whispering things only Friday, Karen and god could hear. His mouth was moving a mile a minute, and his brain a thousand times as fast.

"Tony! Listen to me." Bucky ordered.

He finally looked up at him in a half-hearted daze.

"What Barnes?! What what is it?"

" I need you to take a deep breath for me."

He did so while furiously typing in commands in the phone below. His face began to turn shades of pink and purple.

"Tony let it out now!"

As the pressure in lungs began to decrease, he became surprised at his momentary lapse in sanity.

Had he forgotten how to breathe? Had he been breathing the last few minutes. He didn't know

He closed his eyes allowing Bucky's strong hands to ground him to the present.

"Look at me Stark."

Uncharacteristically he obeyed locking eyes with the person in front of him.

"Hey man, everything is going to be alright. You're going to go downstairs, call Happy and Sam, and tell them what we found okay?"

"Okay," Tony answered robotically.

"And then what are we going to do?"

"Suit up and kick that guys a..!"

"Nope. No not yet because we don't have enough information yet." Bucky interjected.

Tony shifted his weight from one foot to the other, head cocking in disbelief.

"We're going to tell Bruce what happened, and then we're going to eat waffles. Okay?" The assassin continued.

"Waffles?" Tony snorted confused, but still mesmerized.

"Yes, I'm going to make some waffles and you're going to eat them, because I know you haven't been eating."

"Pancakes." Tony challenged.

"What?"

"Not waffles. Pancakes."

"Fine, pancakes," the ex assassin acquiesced.

"Ironman shaped pancakes."

"Umm do we have those?"

"Yes. Pepper bought the little cookie cutter thingies."

"Okay perfect. I'm going to make you and Bruce Ironman shaped pancakes..."

"Nope Bruce needs the Hulk shaped ones. I'm the only one that gets the Ironman shaped ones."

Bucky sighed. Obviously egotism followed him all the way to the verge of his mania.

"Right of course. Bruce gets Hulk shaped pancakes sorry."

Tony shrugged. "It's an easy mistake."

"And after you eat your Ironman shaped pancakes you and Bruce are going to the greenhouse room, breathe some clean air, and take a power-nap."

"Can't sleep." The smaller man argued.

"Okay, well you'll just meditate or something. You're about to burn out, and we can't have that. We need you Stark."

Still wanting to fight against his urging, Bucky brought down the hammer. "You're no good to Peter like this."

This seemed to snap him out of his frenzy. He took another deep breath before turning on his heels and doing exactly what was suggested.

"One crisis averted," Bucky said aloud giving himself a sarcastic high-five.

The victory was momentary, for the next crisis wasn't so easily fixed. It would take everything he had, and no amount of hero shaped pancakes could prepare anyone for what happened next.

Just finished this baby. I will come back to revise it later, but I had to post it or I never would. Your comments mean the world to me! Thanks so much for reading and following. I hope you like it!


	11. Chapter 11

_Just finished this baby. I will come back to revise it later. I had to post it now, or I never would. Your comments mean the world to me! Thanks so much for reading and following. I hope you like it!_

After a busy half hour of cooking, Bucky had the perfect batch of blueberry chocolate chip pancakes hot and ready to eat. ( Ironman & Hulk shaped of course.) Marching down to the lab, he personally escorted the two doctors to Pepper's residential botanical garden.

The beautiful lush green grass, soft wispy willows and thousands of vivid flowers all added to the serenity of the massive space. The small river running through it looked so real and crystal clear you would forget it was man made. A small picnic table and hammock set readily in the corner where the three had a quick breakfast, and took a much needed breather.

"How was your night?" Bruce asked their cook, a part of him not wanting to know the answer.

"Well I dunno what you gave Steve and Peter, but they were on cloud nine for about three hours. That was fun." He answered trying to keep it light.

"...and Natasha how is she?" Bruce inquired hesitantly.

"I think she's feeling worse than she's letting on. They all do probably." Bucky shrugged.

"Sam's bringing the suit and Happy went to talk to the P.D. We'll see if we can get an audience with the cops or the janitor from that night." Tony added tiredly.

Bruce stabbed his blueberry filled Hulk in frustration. "It's like this thing has a mind of its own. It's not like a cancer that just grows and attacks cells randomly. It's as if it's on a timer. Every few hours a certain number of infected cells multiply and they seem to be attacking specific parts of the hosts anatomy. One by one. If it keeps going like this, it'll start shutting down organs. We can't keep up. All we know is it's going to get worse."

"A ticking time bomb," Bucky stated the weight of the thought forcing him back in his seat.

"Exactly a viral one," Brue agreed.

"Like with any bomb there's gotta be a wire we can cut." Tony inserted.

"First we have to know where to look Tones," Bruce murmured quietly as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We find the person behind this, we can figure out what they want. No one makes something dangerous like this without an antidote as a safety net." Bucky added. "We get them.. we get solutions.. everyone gets better. It'll all be fine."

No one spoke, trying hard to wish his words into fact instead of fiction.

The question had to be asked. "How long do we have Bruce?" Bucky asked.

"For the enhanced maybe eight or nine days before it starts getting critical. Anyone else maybe four. We'll keep fighting with everything we got until then." The man answered regret bringing his voice lower with every word."The doctors will keep testing combinations of medications in the lab. All we can do besides that is pray."

" In that case. I think maybe you guys should get some rest. Take twenty minutes. Then you can get back to it." Bucky recommended picking up the plates from the table. He clapped both men on the shoulder as he left.

Bruce immediately fell asleep on the bench beside the river, exhausted by the whole ordeal and with trying to keep the other guy at bay as the situation escalated. Tony on the other hand only begrudgingly closed his eyes, as he let the sway of the hammock calm a few of his nerves.

Upstairs everyone else slept, dead to the world. Though glad they were getting some sleep he still didn't like the look of them all so still, so pale, unmoving besides the slight rise and fall of their chests. As he stood over the couch looking at it's two occupants, something ate at at the pit of his stomach. They would fix this. They had to. His best friend and arguably the cutest most annoying avenger slumbered peacefully together. Thinking of either of them getting worse or watching their bodies deteriorate as one organ shut down after the other was just too much to handle. It couldn't end like this. _It wouldn't. _They had beat far worse odds before.

As he stared at them in sad contemplation, Peter decided to pop up from sleep like a demonic jack in the box yelling, "Pancakes!" louder than humanly possible.

Bucky jumped, startled by the sudden outburst, he cracked the tin carrying their breakfast.

"Geesh kid what is wrong with wrong with you?!" he shouted.

"I don't know Tony still has to get me tested." He answered honestly."Pancakes?"

Bucky shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah, come to the kitchen you weirdo."

Peter didn't need to be told twice.

"Wait, you're congested how could you smell them."

"Spidey sense."

"Oh your tingle, right. " The man teased.

"I can't believe May told you guys that. . It's called my Spider Sense."

"Tomato..Tomatoe'. "

He unwrapped Peter's plate handing it to him along with an empty glass.

"Apple or orange juice?"

"Umm... apple thanks."

After pouring the teen his juice he begin to take the fruits from the basket Pepper had given.

He threw blueberries, bananas, orange juice, some whip cream ice and a tiny spoonful of protein powder into the blender.

"I'm making Natasha a smoothie you want one?"

"Nope, I'm good with this. That's really nice though. You and Aunt Nat are good together." Peter said through a mouthful.

" Really I hadn't thought about it." Bucky deadpanned.

Instead of taking the cue that he didn't want to discuss it any further, Peter began a long list of all the reasons why he should.

"She's sooo pretty. And she's an awesome fighter. She is super cool in a lethal kind of way. And she's actually really nice once you're her friend and stuff."

"Well according to her we just become friends two days ago. So let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"So you're not going to even try?"

Bucky sighed, "Right now I'm just worried about keeping you three alive okay?".

"Is it because of the whole "you shooting her thing" because I'm pretty sure she's over it," Peter inquired.

Bucky froze.

"Peter what are you talking about?"

"Oh you know. When MJ, Steve, Nat, and I went to Clint's for the weekend. We went swimming in the lake behind his house. Anyways Aunt Nat has this wicked scar on her stomach. It's so cool. So I asked Clint about it, and he said you had done it when you were all brainwashed and stuff. And then he said that he shouldn't have told me because it was a secret but he had a couple of beers. So I promised that either Steve or Nat would tell you, because like he said, it should come from them," As he talked his voice got lower and lower as he realized how bad he was messing up.

The other man stood dumbfounded.

"I'm guessing by your face that neither of them have mentioned it?" Peter asked disappointingly.

He shook his head, the only way to answer 'no', as he was unable to speak at the moment.

Bucky turned his back toward him, pushing the blenders button, he watched the whole thing blur into a tornado of fruit and cream. It was no match to chaos in his mind, he had hurt not only Tony but now Natasha. Heart heavy, he felt the tell tell prick of tears behind his eyes. He had literally scarred her for life, it's no wonder she avoided him up until this point. He thought of her subtle jumps at his touch, and felt all the more badly as he understood why she most likely did that. He had tried to kill her. The world almost lost one of its best heroes, because of his failure to break free of Hydra's grasp.

He didn't move even after the blender finished it's cycle. His chest was tight, a sign of an anxiety attack in the making. Lungs were unable to slip oxygen past the knot clogging his throat. A small hand rested on his bicep. Peters lips were pressed in a thin line, worry written all over his posture.

"Hey, Uncle Bucky it's okay. I'm sorry I have such a big mouth, but no one holds it against you."

"You don't know that," he whispered.

"I do. That's why no one told you. I mean it's in the public records. They weren't trying to hide it from you . It's just that it's not important. It wasn't your fault. Everyone knows that."

"You wouldn't understand kid," Bucky retorted brushing him off.

"Last night you said I was an Avenger right? Did you mean that or were you lying to me?" Peter challenged.

"Yes of course I meant it," Bucky confirmed heartily.

"Okay then _I do _understand, and it's like you said we screw up, but we are really good at fixing it. That's what makes us heroes right? We learn, we get better, we do what's right. You're doing what's right. Don't let what I said change it. She needs you right now." Peter drilled him mirroring Tony as he crossed his arms in finality.

Sometimes Peter acted his age but that was not one of those times. In that moment wisdom beyond his years shone through every inch of his exterior. He knew Bucky felt like running. Locking himself back in that cold clear cylinder, not for safety but for punishment. He could never lift the weight of his past no matter how hard he tried to thrust it back in history where it belonged. It always hung over him like a dark cloud threatening lightning and thunder, but never telling when it would strike. That particular morning a storm broke out, and he couldn't take cover. Tony's mini-me wouldn't allow it.

Decorating a food tray with napkins, granola , the smoothie and her medicine, Peter handed it to Bucky apologizing again.

Bucky took a few deep breaths assuring he wouldn't snap the tray in half before taking it.

"It's okay kid. I'm glad you told me." He gave him the best smile he could. Even though it still came out sad and wrong, it was a smile all the same.

Impulsively, as with most things Peter did, he wrapped the other guy in an awkward embrace.

"Sorry again," he mumbled into Bucky's shirt.

With arms pinned, Bucky just put his cheek to the teens soft waves.

"It's fine. Don't sweat it."

He let go, patting him on the back as he left to find Natasha.

From the open doorway Bucky was hit in the face by a wall of intense heat. He called out his presence. The thermostat read ninety degrees. The woman was buried under what seemed to be over twenty blankets, her two braids sticking to the pillows were the only indication she was there at all.

Even stranger was Bucky's face staring back at him from his bed. The blanket with his image plastered on it rested on the very top of the bunch. A blanket that could usually only be found at the apartment of Captain America.

"Natasha?"

"Yes," a quiet voice answered.

"That's a lot of blankets." He stated.

"Your point?"

"Did you steal these from Steve's place?"

She uncovered her face, full of childlike mischief.

"Steal is such an ugly word. I like borrow better,"she mused.

While he was gone she had obviously carried out a secret mission of her own. Operation get more blankets. She had succeeded. The floor was on lockdown, but obviously entrance to Steve's apartment was still obtainable with a bit of sneaking.

"Friday her temperature please?"

"104.3 Sir. Doctor Banner has been notified."

"Tell him not to worry, we'll work on getting it back down. Thanks Friday." Putting the tray by her bedside Bucky gave her the side eye. "Don't make me be the bad guy Nat."

"It's too cold."

"The higher the fever the colder you'll feel. You know that."

She sighed, "Common sense just isn't on our side right now. One freezing Russian equals more blankets."

"Okay, but between me, Tony, and Bruce, I'm definitely the nicest. They'll be here any minute if that fever keeps climbing."

He reached his hand out for the blankets allowing her to give up the contraband willingly.

She handed most of them over without argument, but wrapped herself tight in the ones she did keep.

"I made you a smoothie," he bargained attempting to compensate for taking her warmth away.

Trying to be on better behavior she took a few tentative sips, using it to wash down her medication.

He went to the bathroom, wet a washcloth with cool water, and brought it to her.

A look of surprise and sadness graced her features when he held it out. She didn't take it, instead she stared without words.

"It's for the fever," he explained, confused by her response.

"I know. I don't want it. " she whispered turning her back to him.

_He didn't remember. He couldn't have._

She had no right to be angry at him for that, but a part of her was. She wanted him to remember all they had gone through. Every second, every forgotten moment that panged her should pang him. Was she not important enough for his brain to fight through the muddle of brainwashing and undoing to remember something so simple as her face. He remembered Steve. Why not her?

"Okay, I'll just leave it here. If you need it." He answered rubbing at the back of his neck.

Speaking to her back was much easier than facing her directly. It gave him the courage to bring up what _he _thought was the newfound elephant in the room.

"Nat, I think I owe you an apology," he started.

"I don't..." she interrupted. "I don't want to talk about it right now if that's okay?"

"I just wanted..." he begged needing to get at least a fraction of the weight off his chest.

"Please Barnes? I can't right now."

_They were back on a last name basis again. Great. _

_"_Okay well when you're ready,"

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye as he left the room. A subtle display that she might not ever be ready to discuss anything of the sort.

With head hung low he whispered quietly as the hinges of the door swung shut. "If you need anything. Let me know."

No reply.

The door closed, and she let the rest of her tears fall freely from her cheeks staining the satin white pillows they rested on. Reaching underneath the pillow, she grabbed the bright green pill hidden there, before balancing it on her tongue a few moments in deliberation. Heart thudding painfully in her chest, she reasoned that nothing could feel worse. Swallowing quickly she laid still, allowing for her limbs to succumb to the drugs one at a time. A few moments later a blanket of soft sweet darkness dampened it all, and she willingly succumbed to the claws of it's grasp.

While Bucky made his way downstairs a phone call interrupted his thoughts. He was grateful for the distraction, but quite worried since Sam Wilson rarely video called outside of missions

" Buck are you there? Can you read me?" His voice rang clearly through the phone accompanied by the rush of wind as he flew to an unknown location.

"Yeah I can hear you man, I don't have visual though."

"Friday can you give him visual. Let him see what I see."

"Yes sir, displaying holographic visual now."

Bucky could now see whatever redwing projected. Sam was flying at a blinding speed over the city of Queens . An aerial view of buildings and cars flashed by as he headed to the rougher part of town, and towards a string of old abandoned buildings.

"What's going on Sam?"

"I need you to spot me. I'm flying into a trap."

"What?! Why don't you have backup? Where's Happy?"

"He's securing a crime scene."

"What crime scene? I thought you were both following the leads?"

"We were. We got the address of the janitor. He's dead."

"Oh my god, how sick can these people be? So what they just used and killed him?"

"Actually, they used his access code and badge. He's been dead for two days."

"So that means?"

"He never made it to the bank that night. Facial prosthetics were found at the scene. Someone killed him, took the information, and impersonated him."

" Then they jammed the systems, so Karen couldn't warn Peter of the attack, but the cops they took him home right? What did they say?"

" Nothing. They never made it to the apartment. Their car was found at the bottom of the Hudson. The good news is that it was empty. The bad news is that the cameras caught the car being intercepted by a black van."

"No plates?"

" Of course not. Friday tracked the last known location to an old warehouse about two minutes from here."

"That's too easy. Seems like someone wants you to find them."

"I know, but if there's a chance they could be alive I can't just leave them there."

"I understand, but can you wait for backup? I'll suit up." Bucky said already heading back up the stairs to retrieve his gear.

"No man, I got this. There's not enough time, I'm already here. Besides, they're trying to target us. The less of us out here the better. I just need you to spot me. If anything goes wrong, get Tony to send a suit. Got it?"

"Okay, I'm alerting any local patrol cars. Sending them to your location."

"Sounds good. Approaching."

Sam landed outside the large warehouse. Scattered broken cars, trash, and loose tin scattered the ground before him. An eerie creaking could be heard as the building groaned with age.

"Perfect start to a horror movie," Sam muttered more to himself than anything."And you know who always dies first in those?"

"Don't talk like that man."

"Right the black guy." Sam answered himself sarcastically.

"I'm only picking up two heat signatures, and a very faint power source. Heading in."

"Copy that. Go with caution."

Sam pushed hard against the heavy warehouse doors, casting more shadows than light inside.

He unsheathed his pistol, and leaned against one of the doors for cover.

"This is Sam Wilson. I'm armed and you're surrounded anyone hear me?"

"Help! Please oh god, please help. We're in here!" an agonized voice answered.

"Can you state your name?" Sam questioned.

"Officer Lin of the Queens P.D," his voice cut off as he took a ragged breath." And Richerdson.. Officer Richerdson. He lost consciousness. Please can you help us?"

"I'm moving in. Is there anyone else in there with you?"

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, whoever it is. Tied us up and left."

"Easy Sam. They could have a gun to his head right now." Bucky advised.

"Noted."

Sam crept through the space he had made in the door. The room dripped in darkness. The feed was grainy on Bucky's end but he could just make out the shadow of the two officers handcuffed to a large beam in between them. They sat on the far end of the rectangular room. The deeper Sam walked, the more inconsistent the feed got. The hologram began to fizzle and fill with static.

"Sam! Stop I'm losing you."

Falcon took two steps back towards the door.

"Okay you're feed is getting clearer. They are definitely using jammers. Get out of there. Wait for backup."

"Please!" Officer Lin cried."They injected us with something. It's killing us you have to help us. Please!"

``How fast can you get a suit out?" Sam asked.

"One has just been sent to your location," Friday answered immediately.

"It's fifteen minutes out Sam," Tony informed him joining the video transmission.

"Help is on it's way. Hold tight." Sam called out to the two officers.

"Please! I promise we're ...they said something about a deadline. We're running out of time. Please just untie us. Please!?" He begged. The man was frantic. The rattling of his bonds could be heard as he scarred and bruised himself in the desperate need of release. Sam couldn't bare standing only a few hundred feet away from them and doing nothing.

"I'm detaching redwing. He can still keep an eye on me from outside. If it's an ambush, when anyone comes in or out you'll see it. I'm pulling them out of there." Sam said.

Both Tony and Bucky protested, but his mind was already made up. Fifteen minutes was just too long of a wait. He had seen lives lost in seconds, let alone minutes. He had to move.

They watched silver wings disappear into the belly of the darkness. As the camera hovered by the entrance, suddenly a grey cloud began to pour out of the building. At first it looked like smoke, but transformed into more of a mist as it dissipated into the outside air. Whatever it was, they knew it wasn't good.

"Sam!" Bucky yelled even though he knew the soldier couldn't hear him. "Push that suit Tony whatever it takes!"

"It's going as fast as it can Tincan. Get off me about it!"

Bucky's heart stopped, when the sound of gunshots filled the air. He feared he was witnessing the death of one of his best friends. Fingers laced against the back of his head as he tried to calm his breathing.

_"Ambush. It's an ambush. They desensitized him with gas and shot him. " Bucky thought. _

"C'mon Sam!" He tried again.

No answer, just a stale grey silence as the vapor flooded from the opening.

After what felt like an eternity the Falcon stumbled out of the building toting what had to be Officer Richardson. Getting him to safety, he ran back into the building to support Officer Lin. Strangely the man had a silver briefcase attached to the end of his now broken handcuffs.

Tony and Bucky were too busy reveling in relief to comment on it.

"God Sam! You scared the crap out of me,"

Sam collapsed on his back coughing heavily as he tried to dislodge the almost too sweet air from his throat. "Easy there Buckaroo, you almost sound like you care," He chuckled breathlessly.

"You have a shootout in there or something? We saw the smoke," Bucky inquiered.

"Nope they were alone in there. My suit completely shut down. I had to shoot the cuffs off, must've triggered something, but it didn't hurt me."

"Are you feeling sleepy?" Officer Lin asked grimly.

"A little," Sam answered.

"That's how it started with us too... Now look at us." He whispered probing for the pulse of his unconscious partner.

Both officers were covered in a horrid mixture of vomit, feces, and sweat.

"Let me guess, fever, nasua, vomiting headaches and so on and so forth. Right Lin?" Tony inquired.

"Exactly."

Just then I woosh of metal, gold and red landed in the dirt beside them.

With simple scan the iron suit confirmed everyone's worst hunches. The two officers had the virus and Tony's bio-gaurd had been disabled when Sam entered the warehouse so most likely he had it as well.

Tony called off all local backup and put an order in to Fury himself S.h.i.e.l.d agents in biohazard suits would be the only ones within one thousand feet of the place.

Whil Sam muttered curses under his breath Officer Lin finally addressed the briefcase dangling from his wrist.

"While we're waiting you think you can get this thing off of me ?" He asked.

"What is it?" Tony questioned as the suit snapped the chain a loose.

"I don't know. The men who took us , said to give it to whoever showed up."

"There doesn't seem to be anything of a dangerous nature. No heat or electrical signatures. Only files of some sort boss." Friday informed.

"Well we got some time to kill. Might as well see what's inside." Sam suggested.

As a safety measure the briefcase was opened in the air, then brought back down safely after finding only thick manilla folders inside.

The suit's medal hand held the files out to Sam. Pushing the goggles to his forehead, he thumbed through the pages of black and white print inside. His face screwed up on confusion then suddenly went blank.

"SH*T!" He exclaimed fingering through the pages even more furiously than before.

"Sh*t what Sam?" Tony demanded.

The Falcon rocked on his haunches, in a state of shock.

"Sam?! What is it? What's it say?" Bucky coerced.

"Uh.. They're obituaries."

"Whose obituaries?"

"Ours," Sam informed them.

Silence overtook the group.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Tony asked.

"I said they're ours man. These pages. They're obituaries for the team."

Tony ordered the suit to give him better visual, since as far as he was concerned Sam was speaking absolute nonsense. No one was dead, and it would stay that way.

Unfortunately what he said was true.

**DECEASED: SAM WILSON **

**DECEASED: OFFICER SI LIN**

**DESESEASED: OFFICER KURT RICHERDSON**

The next tab...

**DECEASED: STEVE GRANT ROGERS**

The next.

**DECEASED: CLINT BARTON**

The next.

**DECEASED: SPIDERMAN**

The next.

**DECEASED:PEPPER POTTS **

The next caused Bucky's stomach to drop as if a suicide jumper from a bridge.

**DECEASED: NATASHA ROMONAFF**

"Okay wait... wait! This doesn't make any sense obviously no ones dead and Pep is not sick.

"Are you sure about that?" Lin questioned.

"Yes! Shutup! Who are you anyway? " Tony barked more out of fear than anger.

"Tony get Pepper home now," Bucky ordered before asking, "Sam what are the dates of death on those things?"

Sam flipped through them quickly.

"Uhh they're different. Some are a week from now. Some just a couple of days."

"That's about the time frame Bruce gave us." Bucky nodded trying to keep his voice level and his thoughts clear. "Okay what about the cause of death? Maybe that can give us a hint of where to look."

Chocolate brown eyes scanned the pages furiously looking for the information. They met the suit's camera before uttering an answer the Avenger would never expect.

"Buck?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah, what's it say."

"Look,"

The camera lens expanded and retracted focusing on the string of letters that made the men's blood turn to frigid ice.

_**COD: COURTESY OF THE BLACK WIDOW**_

DUN-DUN-DUN! So glad I finally finished this chapter thank for yall's patience. (I'm from Texas so yes, y'all is a proper English in these parts. Hope you have a wonderful week! Keep your heads up, you gorgeous beings. Until next Time. xoxoxo


	12. Chapter 12

_**To all of my followers and favorites, thanks for sticking with it!**_

_**GoldenAvengers**_ _**/ **__**IsChickenRoastedOrToasted**_ _**/ **__**tigpop**_ _**/ **__**WeirdyMcWeirderton**_ _**/ **__**GoldenAvengers**_

_**Thanks so much to the above FanFictioners. Your comments mean the world to me. **_

**_Happy Reading Ya Gorgeous Being 3_**

_**I hope you have a wonderful week. **_

_**Oh and cute smile, you should use it more often. **_

̈ Well at least we have a motive now...̈ Sam said.

̈ Revenge," Bucky stated finishing his friend's sentence.

" Doesn't narrow it down very much. That girl has a lot of enemies.¨

"̈True, but they used her Russian name.¨

History attacking and repeating itself seemed to be a theme that day.

Black SHIELD vans began arriving on the scene. Sam signed off figuring he would be back at the tower within a few hours. That left Bucky to find a tactful way to talk to Natasha about the situation.

He wouldn't mention it at all if he could help it, knowing she would undoubtedly blame herself. The clue they left however, was clearly for her to find and could be the key in unlocking everything.

" ̈Sergeant Barnes, we have a situation," Friday alerted breaking the quiet of the house.

¨ You don't say?¨ He answered sarcastically.

¨This one is more pressing at the moment,``she informed him urgently. ̈ ̈Ms. Romanoff is in great distress."

At that the soldier tore around the corner and out of the laundry room he had wandered into while spotting Sam.

̈̈"What's wrong with her?"

¨ She seems to be experiencing vivid hallucinations.¨

̈ ̈ Part of the side effects?¨

̈ Yes, but these are not caused by the illness. Though that could be adding to the intensity of the situation.¨

Bucky paused, looking at the ceiling in confusion.

̈ ̈What does that mean?¨

̈ ̈ The illness is the unlikely cause of the hallucinations, though it could be adding to the intensity of them," Friday repeated slowly as if enunciating to an infant.

¨ I heard you the first time ya bum machine! If it's not a virus. Why is she having them? PTSD ?¨

Just then a blood curdling scream ripped through the apartment.

̈" Natasha?!¨ he yelled finally reaching the door.

He twisted furiously at the knob.

̈"Why is it locked Friday?!¨ he demanded.

̈ ̈ Please step back from the door Sgt.¨

"Why?"

The quick succession of throwing knives embedding themselves in the door right above his head answered the question quite clearly.

"There, now I think that might be all of the knives, but I would assume she's still armed. Enter with caution." Friday said unlocking it.

"Natasha! It's me, it's James. I'm coming in. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Stay back, " she shouted venomously in Russian.

He again repeated the same statement in that language as well.

"Step back sir," Friday warned.

This time he listened without protest allowing the hole from the warning shot to pass through the wall instead of him.

He could tell she was crying, and that broke his heart. However, it wouldn't do anyone any good if he got killed trying to reach her. Instead he stayed out of range and gently spoke in both English and Russian.

"You're okay, you're safe. No one will hurt you here. I'm your friend. I want to help."

He repeated in the two languages.

She had a conversation with the voices inside her head instead of the man at the door. Goons encircled her. They were all enemies at some point in her life. Most frightening was the fact that they were all dead. Or at least that's what she thought. Each person took a turn adding gasoline to the fire closing in.

They'd burn her alive. No matter how much she kicked, screamed or shot, weapons had no effect. Punches she should have landed were deflected as if she were striking air. (Which she was.)

The commotion had awoken Steve and Peter. They joined Bucky by the door in trying to coax her down in soothing tones.

She couldn't hear them over the crackling burning beams and falling embers.

When all else failed Bucky finally answered Bruce's very insistent calling that had started at the beginning of that whole incident.

"Barnes?!"

Peter covered his ears at another deafening scream.

"Yeah? I'm a little busy here Doc!"

"Answer the damn phone next time."

"Well maybe you should be up here trying to calm a hallucinating assassin and I'll go play with the medicine for awhile. See if answering the phone is easy then huh?!"

"Alright calm down. Friday told me about what's happening."

"Really did she tell you we almost got our heads taken off twice? And all while being very cryptic by the way."

"If you're not her medical professional you don't have clearance to some information."

" Great do you have anything relevant to add or did you just call to rattle off your phds at me ?"

Bruce sighed trying not to get upset at his tone, " I think she drugged herself, with some of Steve's painkillers."

Bucky thought back to her comment the night before noting to take her teasing seriously from here on out.

"What do I do? We can't go in. I don't want her to hurt herself."

"Try to get her calm," Bruce suggested unhelpfully.

"Gee. Golly. I hadn't thought of that!" Bucky yelled sarcastically right into the phone's microphone.

"Right, well who knows Nat best? What helps her when she gets out of it ?" Bruce contemplated.

"Clint!" They both answered at the same time.

Bucky hung up without a goodbye, calling her best friend immediately.

"What do you want Go Go Gadget?" Clint answered groggily.

"It's Nat.,"

The archer was on alert instantly.

"What's going on? What happened?"

" She's okay besides the fact she doesn't recognize us and is currently shooting the hell out of my bedroom."

" Traumatic stress episode?" Clint wondered.

"More like she took some of Steve's painkillers, and it made her lose her sh/t."

"Dammit Natasha! What was she thinking?" Clint asked scratching the back of his head. " Did something upset her?"

"Um I'm not sure. Maybe?" Bucky wondered honestly surprised by the question, and knowing good and well he had very much upset her.

"She drinks sometimes when she's having flashbacks."

" Well whatever it is she's seeing. She's fighting for her life in there. How many weapons does she have on her?" he asked.

"Enough to destroy a small army bro. You gotta disarm her or you won't have a chance."

"How? We can't get in the room?"

"Tried the vents yet?" Clint suggested.

"Crap, no we haven't. Good idea. I'll call you back man."

"Spiderbaby?"

Peter turned around. "Yeah."

"I need your help."

Natashsa stood pinned against the corner of the bedroom wall. She felt the heat licking at her ankles. The pistol shook in unsteady hands. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and down her collarbone, stinging eyes already filled with tears.

"Give it up girl, no ones coming for you," Pierce spat before she unleashed the last of the bullets into his impenetrable skull.

"Weak!" yelled Madame B.

"I am not weak!" Natasha shouted back at the ghost of a memory.

" You are! You thought you could destroy us? Burn everything to the ground?!"

Her bitter laugh echoed in Nat's ears.

"You can't destroy us. For as long as you live..." She added motioning around the room at filled with every person Natasha was responsible for killing. "...so do we. Now it's you who will burn."

The rest of the room's occupants said nothing. They only watched. They only waited.

Some sported blades in various parts of their bodies, others the gaping wounds of her bullets, most disturbing were those whose necks protruded at gruesome angles just as she had left them.

The flames crawled higher stinging her calves.

Madame B sneered before allowing a man to step forward, and through the flames unbothered.. He removed his glasses splattered with blood from the dripping bullet hole between his eyes. A friendly smile stretched across his handsome face causing his cheeks to dimple.

"Hello there," he crooned.

When he spoke the heat seemed to dissipate.

"Jeremy Whithers," Natasha stated recognizing him immediately.

He clapped his hands in glee.

" You remember me? Wow, it's been so long."

" I could never forget you," she whispered doing anything to keep the man talking and flames away.

" Ahh, it's nice not to be forgotten. I hope my family didn't forget. I was a dad you know? It was my last assignment before I got leave. I never got to meet her." The figure pulled out a folded picture from his wallet. He beamed at it proudly.

A newborn baby girl slept in her smiling mother's arms. Natasha had found the same photo on his corpse all those years ago. She remembered thinking how beautiful the woman was, his wife, as she looked into the camera barely able to contain her joy. That's why he had fought so hard, not for SHIELD but for the family he had left behind. The family he would never see again, thanks to Natasha.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered sincerely.

"What good does that do me now?" The man shrugged returning the picture back to its place.

"If I could go back. I would," She said head bowed and full of shame.

" Now enough of this Natalia," he tutted. " I only came to ask you a question. A bit of consolation for the dead if you may?"

"Of course. Anything."

"The man who was with you?"

"The Soldier?"

He beamed, " Yes. The soldier. I shot him."

"You did."

He chuckled, " I had never shot a gun in my life. I was terrified. Did he die?"

" No, I saved him."

He clutched his chest in relief.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! God forbid I die a murderer… like you."

"That's true, it's a hor...horrible thing," She admitted choking on both the smoke and the knot in her throat.

The small circle in between his eyes began to drip profusely.

She was running out of time.

"So you saved him?" he asked again.

"Yes,"

"Hmm.. It's too bad he's not here to save you. "

His charismatic charade dropped when he roughly gripped her face with chapped fingers.

"It's up to you now, your instructor is right. As long as you live. So do we. Your evil has gone unpunished for too long."

His grasp loosened and he disappeared into the smoke that shrouded her view of the other broken mangled bodies watching. She was left alone.

All Alone.

To Burn.

To Die.

The agony of the heat returned charring her calves, she screamed.

Beams fell, bricks crumbled, and the smoke suffocated.

She had to end it. She had to. She put the trigger to her temple, and pulled.

A sticky white web snatched the gun from her hands and towards the ceiling.

"No!" she shrieked watching her last chance of an easy death disappear into the grey.

The last bit of breath left her body and she fell to the ground.

She glanced at her wrists. Glad to see her widow bites, still strapped there. Turning it on its highest setting she placed to the base of her neck.

"Nope, sorry Aunt Nat. " Pete called webbing her feet and hands together.

Bucky pushed Peter aside. He smashed his way out of the vent and over to Natasha's shaking frame.

He placed both hands on the side of her face trying to catch her gaze.

"Natasha? Nat its me. It's James look at me you're okay! Breathe for me,"

A trace of recognition passed over her features.

"Soldat?"

"Yes Natalia it's me."

"You came for me?" she asked eyes again filling with tears.

"Of course. Always."

She didn't let tied hands stop her from wrapping her arms around his neck, and burying her face into his shoulder. He returned the embrace forcefully.

"Thank you," She whispered.

Calm left as quickly as it came.

Ecstatic as she was to be rescued, the building was still burning. They needed to leave.

"The building … it's on fire. We have to go. I don't think I can move," she whispered frantically. In her mind she saw legs burned and charred, instead of the real ones which were covered by soft leggings.

Bucky played along.

"Okay I'm going to get you out of here. It'll be fine."

He picked her up cradling her to his chest before marching into the bathroom.

"Steve! Peter! Get in here please," He called.

Both were there in seconds thoroughly concerned.

"Peter turn on the shower. Not hot, cool, and then go grab some towels." He ordered.

"On it."

"Steve we gotta cut her out of this, but make sure she doesn't have

anything else on her first."

Grabbing one of the throwing knives embedded in the door, he gently patted her down and cut her out of the webbing.

Thankfully she stayed very still, fingers clutching the shirt of her savior.

"It burns," she whimpered.

Bucky felt her forehead, and just as he suspected it was hot to the touch.

With her in tow, he quickly kicked off his shoes and stepped into the shower.

Peter returned, face twisting in confusion.

"What are you doing Uncle Bucky?" he asked.

"She thinks she's on fire," he answered quietly.

All three men saw her visibly relax in the cool water. Tilting her head towards the spray. Steve moved the shampoos, conditioners, and body wash from the ledge.

Bucky nodded gratefully settling down on top of it.

"It's raining," Natasha mumbled quietly into his shoulder.

" I know the fire's all gone now." He whispered back taking no note of how uncomfortable it was being soaked when you're fully clothed.

Steve was close to tears at the sight. He squeezed Peters soldier and told him they'd better go. If she came to, the less eyes there, the better. Steve and Bucky shared a look. Bucky agreed with his thoughts though unspoken.

"Yeah, I've got it from here," He said, "Let everyone know she's alright. I'll be fine."

"Feel better Aunt Nat," Peter whispered before grudgingly allowing Steve to drag him away. Despite all he'd been through seeing one of his favorite people try to commit suicide right in front of him, someone he viewed as family, defiinitely had made his top three in most frightning moments.

They were alone.

Bucky let out a hard breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

He did his best not to think about what would've happened if she would've tried the trigger a few minutes earlier. Thankfully the gun had been empty and Peter had caught her in time.

"God Nat, don't you dare scare me like that again."

She smiled.

"Whithers said you wouldn't come, but you did."

"Yeah I did," he said.

"You saved my life. Now we're even."

He shook his head.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Thank god, it's raining," she repeated burying her head in the crook of his shoulder.

Bucky leaned against the shower wall, pulling her closer before pressing his lips to her hair.

"Yeah doll. Thank god it's raining."

_**That's it for now. Hope you enjoyed the fluff of it all. Bye Bye... Update coming Soon.**_

.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello darlings! I've just finished this, and am still proofreading. I've had a major case of writer's block, and I'm finally getting past it. I sincerely apologize for not putting trigger warnings in my previous chapter. As a person who has battled with thoughts of suicide and abusive behaviour in the distant past, I understand the battle of emotions. **

**I tried to capture at least a fraction of the pain and turmoil that accompanies such an experience. Think about it, if Nat and Bucky can work through their past and come out on the other side, though the characters are purely fictional, can't we work on forgiving ourselves, and awarding our existence with the love it rightly deserves? **

The hour passed. They found themselves on the floor of the shower. (Fully clothed of course. No need to get racey.) Natasha clutched onto him even in her restless sleep. After several attempts of trying to move her resulted in more screaming, the man gave up and instead made both of them as comfortable as possible.

He pushed drenched strands of hair away from his face, after twirling it between his fingers. Superman curl, that's what Peter called it. A curly loop with jet black hair, silky like ravens. Scarlett against the silver of his hand. The race of water ice grey droplets across her cheek, down her neck and across her collarbone. Her back rested against his chest and his against the shower wall. She drifted in and out of consciousness wrapped securely in his arms.

Whithers.

Whithers.

Whithers.

She repeated over and over in her sleep.

I'm sorry

I"m sorry

I can't do this anymore….

… were tiny murmurings adding to the worrisome mantra.

The water was turned a bit warmer so neither would catch a chill, before Bruce came up. Though uncomfortable with the scene he rolled up his pant legs. Putting his feet in the water, he spoke quietly to Bucky about any updates, holding Nat's hand as he did so.

Sam and Pepper were confirmed as carrieres. Tony, Clint, Phill, and Maria were scouring all of their information outlets that might connect the attack to any organized crime syndicates.

They all hoped for some old-school cocky villainy. One where the bad guys were too conceited to let their brilliance go unclaimed. The kind that were so sure of their success they spilled their evil plans before they were certain. Those ones always missed a step or left a hint in haste to blow their own horns.

These in contrast had been smart, it seemed they would stay quiet until their goal had been reached and the heroes dead.

After giving her something to calm down, Bruce called female nurses in to help her dry off and into a fresh change of clothes. Bucky waited impatiently outside the door until they ushered him back in.

"We can stay with her," One of the nurses suggested seeing how obviously tired he was.

"No, I'll be fine thank you ma'am. I'll call if I need anything," he said tucking her under thick covers.

He pulled up a chair beside the bed and waited.

Waiting entailed: adjusting the covers every five minutes, pacing, staring intently at her face, checking her forehead, and watching the covers rise and fall just to ensure she was still alive.

Somewhere in the midst of all his "waiting", Steve joined him.

He spared the bed's occupant a wary glance before stretching across the couch. Just to be closer. Only to be closer.

Twenty minutes later Sam arrived. Besides slight nods of the head, neither said anything. He made a pallet on the floor beside Steve and fell asleep. His presence accomplished nothing. He was there only to be closer. Hearing everyone's breathing, though uneven, was enough.

Peter in all his stupor didn't bother with the formalities of personal space and such. After entering the room he didn't hesitate to crawl in right beside his Spider-Aunt. Bucky would have protested, but she seemed to gravitate toward the boy's warmth, only to be closer.

After getting Pepper settled in their room, Tony joined as well.

Peter having a sixth sense for his mentor, woke at his presence. He loopily pressed a finger to his lips, beckoning him over.

There was no resistance. He climbed in beside him. It was only to be closer, only to feel the boy's heartbeat under his hand.

Bruce, surprised to find he was the last to arrive at the slumber party, handed Bucky a cup of coffee before silently pulling up a seat beside his.

"Under any other circumstances this would be cute," he commented.

They watched as Peter threw a wild leg over Tony's middle, followed by an arm to his dad's face. The man simply readjusted the teen until he was practically resting on top of him.

"It's still pretty cute if you ask me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Bruce chuckled. "Why don't you try to rest. I'll keep an eye on things?"

"Can't," Bucky answered. His gaze fixed on Natasha.

"I thought you'd say that hence, the coffee."

Bruce shrugged further down in his chair. His head began to nod as he tried to help Maria navigate through the endless stream of unhelpful information they were finding. Bucky gingerly removed the scientist's glasses before they could fall to the floor.

"Whithers?" Natasha whispered in her sleep.

Peter squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, "Shhh it's okay Aunt Nat."

"But.."

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand.

"Hey, it's okay we're here. We're all here you can go back to sleep," he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open.

"James?"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" he asked happy she recognized him.

" Whithers?"

"He's not here sweetheart. It's just us."

"Who?"

"Your friends. Your family," he answered stroking her cheek.

That made her smile. He returned it.

"Go to sleep."

"Who's going to stay on watch?"

"I will."

"Okay, I'll take the next. You look tired," she noted.

"Fine, I'll wake you up when it's your turn. Close your eyes."

She obeyed, as glistening metal contracted and retracted in her hair.

Whithers seemed to be the recurring name in her nightmare.

When he was sure everyone had returned to dreamland, he did some digging of his own. Prying the tablet out of Bruce's hand, he searched Whithers up in the SHIELD database. It took several different renderings of the name to pull up anything useful.

Jeremy Whithers- SCIENTIST EMPLOYED BY S.H.I.E.L.D

Great, maybe they could get in touch with him.

He read on a little further.

STATUS- DECEASED

Of course, he was.

It was never that easy.

The cause of death was unknown, but it was rumored to be the work of HYDRA. According to the notes, both organizations were in a desperate race to find vibranium. The scientist was killed while in transit to, what the locals referred to as, the secret city of legend.

Wakanda.

He opened the folder marked crime scene photos.

He expected them to be gruesome. What he wasn't expecting was some form of recognition.

The man was found faceup covered in dirt and debris. There was no attempt to hide the body. The death nothing more than a trophy for the winning team.

Bucky zoomed in closer. He had seen it before, but as with anything HYDRA related, his mind drew a blank. The strange sense of familiarity always gave him a slight headache due to the misfiring of neurons triggered by his malfunctioning hippo-campus. The amazing combination of both Stark and Wakandan technology had successfully executed a reverse Pavlov of his mind.

The short unscientific version of what they did was as followed: The memories from before his time with HYDRA were rewarded, strengthened and discussed for hours at a time. The bad ones, on the other hand, were canceled out with a form of mild shock therapy. Both were done while the patient was under sedatives. It never hurt but taught the brain to block out anything disturbing or negative implanted by the terrorist group.

The longer he stared the stronger the pain behind his eyes became.

"Come on," he chanted to himself.

This was the first time he recalled actually wanting the therapy to fail, but his brain was nothing but television static and white noise.

If it had anything to do with the woman in front of him he wouldn't give up. It wasn't an option.

_**_FLASHBACK_**_

The soldier awoke suddenly causing the then cold rag to fall to the ground. It took a few seconds for the searing bullet wound to remind him where he was and what had happened only hours before. Natalia moved around the house quietly organizing the backpack across her shoulder.

"I'm leaving soon," she informed him.

"How long did I sleep?"

"A few hours. How do you feel?"

"Fine," he answered gruffly clearing his throat.

" Good, I hired three trackers and a vehicle. Everything is paid for and off the books. We should find him by evening, even with transport he couldn't have gotten far."

"I hope you're right."

"Will you be okay here? " she asked quietly

This question made him realize he desperately needed to make up for his vulnerability the night before.

"Of course," he confirmed in a harsh tone.

"Good I'll be back as soon as possible."

Their eyes locked for a moment, Neither moved. Neither spoke. She looked so young. In his opinion, too young. Something softened within him. It was unfair for her to carry the weight of their lives hanging in the balance on such narrow shoulders.

"You can do this," he whispered fiercely.

Her mouth morphed into a straight, hard and determined line.

"I know."

At that, she left him on guard in the foreign apartment.

The hours crawled by. Dusk turned into day. The afternoon sky bled into the sunset of evening. He watched from the windows and the peepholes looking for a flash of red hair and ivory skin to sachet up the drive and through the door. Twilight came and went before she did so, covered in dirt and blood. In the shadows of the dark, he twirled the handle of the gun around his finger awaiting the mission report. She glanced at him, then quickly away.

"You failed," He assumed grimly.

"No."

"Proof," he demanded.

A picture of the doctor was placed in his hands. The battered mess was unrecognizable from the young vibrant scientist they had been briefed on.

"You faced resistance?"

"He fought like a tiger. Only the gun quieted him," she whispered.

He slid the picture back in the envelope with Whithers journal.

He afforded the relief of a job well done with a gracious nod.

"The mission was accomplished. You did well, and despite setbacks, proved to be resourceful. I was wrong about you," he admitted.

"Thank you. Our superiors have been notified. We leave tomorrow evening. I'm going to clean myself up. Am I dismissed?" she asked with a slight tremble.

"Of course."

She quickly took to the stairs, smudging grime across her cheeks in an attempt to wipe away the tears.

When the hour mark of her absence came and went, he began to worry about her. In the past he supervised recruits ended their lives after the first assignment. A twinge of unfamiliar regret plagued him at the thought finding her lifeless body on the bathroom floor.

Usually, a mission was a mission. A life lost, was just that to him, a life lost. As long as the task was completed and his duty filled, it didn't matter one way or the other. His life didn't matter and neither did anyone else's. Dying for the cause was the only death he'd been taught was worth it. It was a cause he had long forgotten the meaning of, if he ever had known it in the first place.

He couldn't remember who or what he was before the life he was trapped inside of. He knew nothing besides slavery to HYDRA, and he was never afforded the oppurtunity to think for himself. Being hardwired to survive, fight and kill had an unbreakable hold on him.

But, sometimes he saw glimpses of something different.

Someone different.

Clarity, being the unfaithful mistress that she was, never remained long enough to explore the possibility of something real.

There was something about the girl though, she was different. She was strong, resilient and smart. He had been in and out of cryo throughout the years to train the young widows. He vaguely remembered her spinning in a pristine white tu-tu. Little legs straight and perfect, never letting the sound of other tiny ballerinas dropping from the snap of Madam's whips stop her. She kept twirling and jumping, seeing something beyond the walls. Her potential did not go unnoticed, and he was not surprised that she had been one of the graduates.

Somehow there was still light in her eyes. A light that set something afire in him. A flame that shed a little light through the haze that hid visions of faces, sounds and feelings that made up forgotten memories. He wasn't ready to let that go. At least not that night.

The couch became very uncomfortable. He paced the floor until the circles became wider and more purposeful as he moved closer and closer to the staircase. Holding his side he made the slow crawl up. He entered the bedroom silently following the sound of running water. Quite racking sobs mixed with the pitter-patter of water droplets filled his ears.

"What's wrong with me? God, what's wrong with me?" she murmured to herself in russian.

His hand rested on the doorknob as he deliberated interrupting her. Noticing all the weapons were on the bed, and out of reach from harming her he stepped away.

She had accomplished her mission, and finally the dream of becoming a Widow was a reality. Why did she feel so empty… so devastated… so wrong?

She allowed herself a few moments of weakness, and swore it would never happen again. Wrapping a towel around herself she went in search for a new shirt to pair with the shorts wore the night before. The previous tank top was ruined by the days activities. Her steps fell short on finding the soldier waiting for her. Their eyes met and she was certain it was the end. Crying was a weakness, and weaknesses were unacceptable. He sat ominously unloading her pistol, and relocating the bullets to his pocket. Each landed with a subtle clink, like a nail in a coffin.

"Are you alright?" he asked surprising her so much that her towel slipped a little past the point of decency.

He didn't look away.

"I'm fine," she answered curtly tearing the first shirt she found off the hanger before returning to the bathroom. Her stay was much shorter than before as she attempted to feign normalcy.

"Why did you unload my gun?" She asked as more of a plea than an inquiry. She watched her bare toes wiggle against the green nylon of the carpet.

"Because I didn't want you to do anything stupid."

She cocked her head in surprise.

"You mean shoot myself?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I wouldn't."

"Really?" he questioned with arched brows.

"Yes."

" That makes one of us," he murmured more to himself than the woman.

A raw desperate sadness emitted from his being.

She chanced the seat beside him.

"Why would you say that?" She asked quietly.

"I have no purpose," he said.

"That's not true !" she interrupted aggressively. " You have shaped history. We're making a difference, creating a more perfect future. It wouldn't be possible without the work we do. It's the only option of life we have."

"Which is why some choose death," he reasoned.

"Then why haven't you?"

His silence answered for him. He had tried, and he had failed. The pain of punishment was enough to know never to do it again. That realization was enough to end her rant.

"Sometimes I forget," he started. "They wipe me, and I forget how terrible it all is. The longer I'm out, the more I remember something isn't right, then I crave death more than anything."

"I've gone through too much to give up now," she whispered running her fingers across the barrel of her empty gun. " This is all I know."

" Good, you have a bright future as a Widow. Hold onto that."

"What do you hold onto?" she asked.

"I haven't found it yet," he answered honestly.

"I hope you do. For Hydra's sake, and for mine," she said with fingers almost touching his.

He made a face at her admission.

"Because of all you've done for the cause, and the fact that you're a good teacher," she explained quickly while putting space between the two of them.

Before he could comment, a small boy with dirty blonde hair appeared in the corner of the room, ripping his attention away from Natalia. He threw a battered baseball in the soldier's direction.

"You're a good teacher Buck, " he said with a toothy grin. " Pa never had the chance to you know..."

The little one slapped his weathered glove in unbridled excitement as the baseball was thrown back by the ghost of his person. The ball flew past him and out of sight.

"Aw shoot!" the boy exclaimed. " Don't worry I'll go get it."

He ran across the room and right through the walls, disappearing from the man's sight.

The soldier tried to follow him, but found only the dark and empty hallway on the other side.

"What is it?" Natalia questioned peeking over his shoulder.

"Nothing. I thought I heard the doctor come back. It's fine though. We should eat, you must be hungry." he ordered heading in the direction of the kitchen.

The cabinets were filled with foreign food. The doctor must've loved to cook. Shelves were lined with seasonings of orange, reds and browns. The soldier examined a strange looking fruit protruding with color at awkward angles.

"Dragon fruit," she commented.

"What?"

"You know, because it looks like a dragon's head?"

There was no response.

"Never mind. African cuisine wasn't in my education but, American was," she said pulling out a bag of raw chicken thighs. "Do you like fried chicken?"

"I love fried chicken," he answered matter of fact.

They shared a quizzical glance. The statement of preference was strange in itself, they didn't have the option of liking or not liking anything. They ate what was put before them, if it was anything at all. He couldn't remember trying fried chicken, let alone loving it.

"Great," she exclaimed deciding not to challenge him based on the fact he looked just as confused by the admission. "Chicken it is."

Natalia had always liked cooking, it was one of the exercises that rarely ended in death. (Unless you forgot a key ingredient or the food was absolutely horrible like Rosilina's for example. Madam took one bite of her cooking and stabbed her with the same knife they had sliced the sirloin with.)

Natalia was good at following recipes. She never deviated or tried to put her own touch into the food. It was always exact and precise, as with everything she did. With cooking there were never turns or surprises. Never a photograph attached to the body of the scientist who was in search of a whispered impossible city. The soldier was talking to her, but she couldn't hear anything over the scientist's voice from earlier.

"My baby girl! Please I have a baby girl at home!" He pleaded while pushing and kicking again and again at the two men holding him down. "I've told you everything I know. It's all in the journal. Please just let me go!"

She wondered if her father had cried for her the same way when she was taken. She couldn't remember his face, but sometimes she liked to imagine his voice. Deep and strong. Did he cry for her? Or was he happy to see her go? Could fathers tell what types of persons their children would become? Could he tell his daughter would become a murderous monster? She didn't know.

"We got what we came for!" she barked at the two hires.

They sneered. Money was not the only payment they sought after. A kill had been promised and a kill they would get. Innocent or not. Father or not. The bullet hit it's mark, and she wondered if it was all worth it.

The Soldat clapped his hands sharply, breaking her free of the trance.

She resumed flouring the chicken as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?" she asked.

"Can I help with the preparations?"

"No of course not you're my superior. I serve you." she replied robotically.

He knew this, but deep down a chivalrous Sergeant said that a real man knew his way around the kitchen.

"I'm hungry. Four hands are quicker than two."

"Three hands." she corrected in an attempt at humor.

It went right over his head.

"Right, well you can peel the potatoes thank you."

It took him a few minutes to get the hang of the slippery ovals, but in the end he found the chore relaxing. They cooked in silence, with him following her directions around the room.

He was pleased to see that the cooking had a calming effect on her. As the aroma filled the room, a small smile graced her face. Soft childlike features became more prominent, with full lips and beautiful green eyes. He felt a strange twinge in the pit of his stomach, it spread to his spine and stopped somewhere in his toes. One charged not by fear and anger, as he was used to, but by desire. A desire to protect that smile as long as possible.

She scooped the freshly chopped tomatoes, sprinkling them over the salad.

"There," she said proudly.

"Are we done?"

"Yes, I think so."

She placed his plate on the table. The first few bites more delicious than expected.

So delicious in fact, that the blonde boy from earlier decided to join him at the dinner table looking a few years older in the face but not much taller. He wore a weathered tan jacket, and a white collared shirt, both of which were too large for him.

"Your mom makes the best fried chicken," he said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Why thank you Steven!" a sing song voice answered from afar.

"Are you going to eat that?" the teen asked pointing absently with his fork.

The soldier looked down to see exactly what he wanted from his plate, but "Steven" left again before an answer could be given. His presence was replaced by the empty chair in the doctor's dining room.

"Is something wrong?" Natalia asked worried that the food wasn't to his liking.

He told her everything was fine, before changing the subject as to why she chose to eat standing up.

"It's only proper. I'm able to serve you better, if you need anything," she answered.

He kicked out the legs of the empty chair with his foot, and motioned to the empty seat. She obediently sat down, finishing the meal in comfortable silence.

When their plates were emptied and their stomachs full, they washed the dishes and put them away. Natalia was feeling considerably better, and perceived she was in the Soldier's good graces for the time being. Wanting to celebrate, she turned to the doctor's stash of alcohol.

"There's nothing for dessert, but maybe this will do?" she asked with fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of wine. She looked so attractive, with long bare legs and the button down shirt that fit loosely around her figure.

"It has no effect on me, but you're welcome to it." he said doing his best to focus on her face and nothing else.

She tapped her index against her chin while scanning the cabinets. Spying her target, she began to climb on the top of the kitchen counter. She passed a bottle of cognac down to him. As she did, one of her feet slipped atop the slick counter. Her instincts would've contorted her body so as to land gracefully, but he caught her instead. Restoring her balance with a hand on the small of her back.

"You haven't even drank anything yet," he said the corners of his mouth struggling to pull up just a fraction.

"Yes, well I was a clumsy child. It still comes back every once in awhile," She added breathlessly.

"Good to know," he whispered allowing his fingers to trail a little longer than necessary.

He helped the amber gold liquid into crystal glasses. The burning was a welcome replacement to the stress of the day.

All the dirt and grime from the last few days began to scratch at his skin. He threw back what remained of the liquor, and headed for the shower. Bathing was one of the rare, often impossible, pleasures afforded to someone like him. More than once he had gone weeks without it . Only when his scent became stronger than what they were tracking or the layer of smut that caked his body interfered with doctor's tests, could he wash. Even then it was in murky river water crawling with filth or ice cold dunks in a metal chambers of bleach and scouring pads. Warm clean water and sweet smelling soap beckoned him like a light house would a stray boat.

" I'll change the bandages when you're ready," Natalia said going for the medical supplies.

The thought of her hands on him brought the shiver back, only this time it was stronger. He needed to get his bearings around this woman. Nothing in his training had prepared him for this.

"No need. I can take care of it."

"Well by the looks of these i.v needles you snapped in half. It seems like you might need a more delicate touch Soldat?"

She was right, his attempts at setting the drip had failed miserably. It wasn't in his design to handle something so delicate.

"Fine," he agreed begrudgingly.

"Fine, is there anything else you may require?"

He sighed, "Bring the rest of that bottle up. I've got a new task for us."

"What's that?"

"To be gracious guests, and not leave a drop in there. "

She hid a coy smile behind a face of false contemplation, " I think I read somewhere it's good for pain. You wouldn't happen to be experiencing any of that right now, would you?" she asked sarcastically.

" Hmm maybe just a little," he agreed." I'll meet you upstairs then ."

As she put the things from the hospital in proper order, she meditated on what an unbelievable conundrum the soldier was turning out to be.

The man who begged for death the day before, was the same one who made sure she knew her purpose, so as not to be reduced to that. The one who would kill ruthlessly on a blind command, was the same person stealing soft glances at her the whole night.

She knew she was what males considered attractive. From a young age she learned to ignore the openly vulgar stares and comments from much older men. Thankfully Madame had never let them touch her. However, she did give warning, that seduction would be necessary for success as she got older.

Natalia tried not to think of such unpleasant things. She prayed her skill set would be enough, it had to be. However, when her first mission required close contact with one of the world's most dangerous men, she felt that her prayer, as all the others had been, went unanswered.

Surprisingly, he seemed almost sheepish in her presence. The ugly gruff exterior was still prominent, but something else, something genuine was seeping past that barrier and breaking the surface. There were moments where he wore the same distant scared look that she saw in herself every morning. The same look she covered with a steel mask, before breaking away from the mirror and starting each day, never knowing if it was her last. Maybe they weren't so different after all .

"A thin line separates the Warrior and the Widow," she whispered to herself. " A very thin line."

**Thank you so much for reading! I hope the rest of your week goes fantastically. I have a direction for the story, but if you would like to see a certain moment of fluff please let me know. I'll find a home for it! - **


	14. Chapter 14

**-****It's no coincidence you're here at this exact moment in time and space. The universe wanted to tell you that, ****you're**** absolutely amazing! Not because you're reading the pointless escape below, but because you're an amazing human being and your loved all on your own. **

**Wow, it took me forever to come up with the next part. I know where I'm going, but how to get there is always a struggle. Thanks for your patience. Short and sweet ****addition****. Love you all. Happy reading. **

Bucky couldn't stand the nagging chasm in his memory. It was usually something he happily ignored. This time it felt wrong. He would gladly plummet into the deep abyss of it all, if it meant he could get some answers about what was making Natasha so afraid. There was only one genius he trusted at a time like this. Not Tony or Bruce or even Pepper. It was the sixteen year old Wakandan princess, he'd come to know and love.

Before he could step out into the hallway, Natasha again became agitated in her sleep, catching him mid-leave.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

There was a distinct uneasiness in her voice.

" I'm not going anywhere. I just have to make a call."

Steve rolling off the couch and crashing onto Sam interrupted his explanation. Sam in self defense, started throwing punches, which caused Steve to do the same. It was a wild frenzy of sleepy arms and legs.

"What are you doing in my bed Wilson?" Steve demanded.

Bucky pulled Steve off Sam.

"Hey! Both of you stop it. You're going to wake everyone up." he shushed them aggressively.

"Why are you telling me to stop it? I was minding my own business, sleeping, before freakin' Captain Dumb-a*s came crashing down on me trying to take my virtue!" Sam complained.

Steve was known to be not only a very heavy, but an extremely acrobatic sleeper.

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly crawling back on the couch realizing his mistake.

"Oh nu-uh "sorry" ain't gonna cover it. Think I'm one of your little boyfriends you can just tackle like that? I do not appreciate it," Sam argued gathering his pallet to move.

"I swear if one of you wakes up my kid," Tony threatened only half awake.

Sam made moves to the other side of the room.

"Well since you're awake now Wilson," Bucky started.

"I'm not awake."

"Very funny. I need to make a call, can you keep an eye on Nat?"

"Oh. Yeah, no problem."

"Nat, I'm going to be right outside the door if you need me. Sam is going to keep watch okay?"

She knew she shouldn't care one way or the other, but the inside of her mind was nothing more than a glorified tilt-a-world. Thoughts being thrown and stuck to the inside, a slow nauseous twirl of medication and confusion. The past mixed with the present. They were safe in one of the tower's rooms, but right outside the door were imagined Hydra agents and that horrible machine that they would strap him to. There was no telling up from down, left or right. All the time and feelings the woman spent compartmentalizing, were spilling out and over their containers. The only thing she could figure was what felt safe and what didn't.

Peter slept beside her. He was safe. He was hers. Tony was a friend, he was safe. There was a twinge of discomfort with Bruce, but he was a friend. He cared. Steve and Sam were somewhere near too. She loved them. They were safe. But James, Bucky, the Soldier… _he_ was what she wanted right now. She craved the soft scent of pine, and cinnamon. Now he said that he was leaving.

The second to last time he left her, he promised to be back. That time never came. He walked out the door. They captured him. It was the end. He was doing it again. No, they had to stick together this time.

She tried to sit up and failed. Bucky placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder keeping her down.

" Hey Mamas, our Winter Boo Bear is going to make a call right outside the door. But ole' Sammy is going to stay right here with you until he gets back okay?" Sam asked coming in to view.

Panicked eyes answered. Bucky realized it wasn't just the overdose, vodka, and a "moment of weakness". Her weird attachment to him stemmed from the same reason he felt a subtle familiarity sitting with her two nights ago. They had a connection. One that had been taken away from him. Just as the old picture was firing a dead end recognition, so was touching her. So was being near her. Those forest green eyes were giving him a headache of unmatched proportions, and he needed to know why.

"Just yell if you need me okay?"

"Okay," she answered quietly.

Sam sat beside her, resting against the headboard. Natasha looked at him whispering "safe" over and over again until she believed it. Sam rubbed circles between her shoulder blades until she fell asleep again, before cocking his chin to the doorway cuing Bucky . He mouthed a quick thank you and left the room. The phone was picked up after only two rings.

"My sad white brother! I've missed you!"

He couldn't help but smile," Hey how's my favorite princess doing?"

"You know the usual, running the country, roasting T'Challa, being amazing."

"Sounds about right. How's the king?"

"He's fine. Opening the country to scientists and new companies has kept him busy. I know he misses having you around though."

He kicked at the floor with the back of his heel.

"Yeah, well I miss him too. Tell him hi for me."

"I will."

" Shuri I need to ask you about something."

" Oh no," she groaned.

"What?" he asked confused as to why her voice had taken on a whining quality.

" You're still coming to Challa's wedding right? Because you are supposed to walk me down the aisle. Mother will force me partner with cousin Juju. He's an idiot and I refuse to be disgraced in front of all of Wakanda. "

"Of course I'm going to the wedding. We picked out my dashiki remember? Why would you ask that? "

"Because you're using your 'I have bad news voice'." she explained. "What is it Bucky, _really_?"

It was crazy how well she knew him at this point.

"I'm okay, just tired and a little stressed out," he answered honestly.

"About the virus?" She asked.

"Yeah, you know about it?"

"Yes, I've been on schematics with Bruce and Tony all day. I think we found a cure," she said excitedly.

The news caught him by absolute surprise.

"Ri-Ri are you serious?" His voice cracked with emotion.

"Yes, I'm looking at the prototype right now. The labs are still synthesizing and trying to find the correct dosage. It is laced with a miniscule amount of vibranium, so the calculations must be precise, but we are getting close."

Bruce had kept quiet to avoid giving false hope. Bucky now understood why he and Tony were finally resting. They trusted Shuri and her nation. If she said they were close, there was no reason to doubt.

"How close?"

"I'd say we'll have it there in less than thirty six hours at most." she said confidently.

"God, that's amazing. Thank you. What would we do without you kid?"

"Honestly? Probably die," she joked before her voice became serious. " But I wouldn't let that happen. We are a family now. All of us. You know this."

"I know," he said.

His knees buckled as the crushing weight of possibly losing them all started to dissolve. He slid slowly down the wall, took a seat on the floor of the hallway, and allowed the moment it's deserved honor. At last he could retire hope and replace it with faith. He'd learned quickly that faith in the Wakandan princess, was never misplaced.

" Then it is settled. Everyone will be fine, and you'll come to visit soon, yes?"

"Yes, but I actually was calling about something else. Is this line secure?"

"Give me a moment." Shuri said before clearing the work space and running the phone call through an untraceable line. "Okay, what is it? Are you in trouble ?"

"No, it's about my memory."

"Are you having relapses?"

"No none at all. I still can't recall any of my time with HYDRA."

"That is good right? It means the therapy is still successful, " Shuri asked skeptically.

"Sure on any other day, but this particular case came up. It's important that I remember, but I'm drawing a blank."

" Is this about President Kennedy?" Shuri wondered.

"No. Wait, what happened with Kennedy?"

"Umm nothing. Nothing. Forget I mentioned anything," she coughed awkwardly.

"Okay, well, we'll talk about _that_ another time." Bucky said.

"Bet," Shuri challenged.

Bucky left it alone, knowing that word meant her absolute stubbornness.

"Fine. It's a case about a man named Jeremy Whithers. Something recently resurfaced. I think I may have been involved with his death."

"You were involved with a lot of deaths. That is why we altered your recollection in the first place, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. It's just that this one is different. Is there any way that we can isolate that particular memory? I know it's still there. I can feel it."

" I do not doubt that, but you're on a very short leash in the accords. Trying to bring back any of your time with Hydra is in violation of it."

"Shuri…"

"Bucky," she interrupted abruptly. " What we did with your mind is unprecedented. We can't isolate that particular time period or memory without the risk of instigating a flood of others. All the work we've done will be compromised, and the basis of your freedom revoked. The Winter Soldier is still inside. We have put him to sleep. If he awakens we might not be able to get you back. Is that what you want?"

Bucky sighed. What he wanted was answers.

"Is it?" she demanded.

"No," he regressed. " I'm just frustrated is all."

"I understand. Everything will be okay. " Shuri said relieved to hear his resignation.

"Can you do me a favor though?"

"Sure, as long as it won't put you in danger of Secretary Ross."

"It's not illegal."

" You misunderstand brother, I can do illegal. I prefer it actually." The princess laughed. " I'll do it as long as it will keep you out of danger"

"You really are a little rebel aren't you?" Bucky complimented. "Maybe we can do illegal next time. Look into that name for me. He died on African soil. Maybe you can dig up something more than what the SHIELD files have on him.

"Sure text it to me , I'll see what I can do," Shuri said.

"Thanks Shuri. You're the best."

"I know," she crooned before they gave their good byes and the conversation ended.

They were close to it all being over. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a much needed breath as he did so. He peeked back inside the room letting his eyes land on each face. They slept soundly. Natasha was curled securely into Sam's side. He smiled.

Now that the agony of their survival was finally off his shoulders, he regained a small piece of mind, no matter how tattered and broken that mind was.

He headed downstairs for shower, ordering twenty-five pizzas before he did so. The sanitization took longer than what he deemed necessary, but he was glad to make it back to the penthouse in one piece and with full hands. He found Steve sitting in the living room watching an old cowboy film. Tony entered at the same time carrying Peter backpack style to the couch. The boy's face was smushed into his dad's shoulder, while his arms and legs loosely encircled his torso.

"And where have you been?" Tony demanded.

"Getting dinner." Bucky replied easily. " What? Did you miss me?"

"It's been an hour," he demanded.

"Yeah well you can blame the handsy doctors downstairs." Bucky said kicking the door closed with his foot.

"I don't even want to talk about them," Tony groaned. " All the good ones are in the Wakanda initiative program. We got the leftovers."

"They're doing their best Tony," Steve argued dialing the volume up on the t.v so he could hear over the conversation.

"Well Shuri said they're close to finding a cure, so that's good news," said Bucky.

"Good, 'cuz I'm tired of puking," Peter murmured with a muffled complaint.

"I know you are kiddo," Tony said after placing him on the couch next to Steve.

"Did I miss anything?" Bucky asked.

"Not really. Bruce left. Peter and Steve had a magical moment sharing the toilet bowl, and Sam and Nat are still asleep."

"Good to know. I left three pies downstairs for you and Bruce whenever you're ready.

"Are you kicking me out?" The billionaire asked indignantly.

" Your words, not mine Ironman."

"Last time I checked this whole tower is in my name, so I can stay as long as I want."

"Oh, I didn't tell you I'm looking for apartments in Brooklyn?" Bucky joked.

"I'll get moving boxes right away Tincan." Tony said in fake glee.

"If he goes , I go Tony," Steve piped up over the galloping hooves of the screens horses.

"Oooh no bueno. Kinda have this contract with Pepper about Steve having to live here. Something about him being our impulse control," Tony argued. "Well I guess you'll stay to see another night in Casa De La Stark, Barnes."

Bucky smirked. " Tony, always so generous. I'm truly "hashtag `blessed."

Peter laughed.

"Oh dear, now there's three of you." Tony said referring to Bucky, Peter and Shuri. "On that note I'll go check on Pep"

He punched Steve good naturedly, kissed Pete's forehead, and flipped James the bird as he made his exit.

"Love You ! " Steve yelled after him.

"Don't make Barnes jealous. " he replied, closing the door.

The news of a cure had Tony back to his usual pompous self. With him and Bruce gone, James returned to his job of keeping the rest of them fed, hydrated and rested.

"I've got six different kinds of pizzas over here boys."

"Not hungry." Steve said.

"I'm hungry, but I need like twenty minutes and an extra-strength pepto." Peter replied groggily.

Bucky poured them a glass of ginger ale, placing empty plates and pizzas in front of them.

"Eat when you're ready. I'm going upstairs," he said.

"Wait, " Peter called uneasily.

"What is it sport?"

"I umm…. Sam is sleeping beside Nat. Don't be jealous, kay? It doesn't mean anything," he said in a tiny defensive voice.

The crease in the middle of Bucky's eyebrows dimpled momentarily. He couldn't be mad at the teenager seeing how seriously he was taking his relay of information.

"Even if it did _mean something_, it would be okay Pete." Bucky said.

"Yeah right," Steve mumbled much to his best friends surprise.

"What's that supposed to mean Rogers?"

"Nothing."

"No seriously you wanna speak your mind," Bucky said cocking his head to the side.

A crap eating grin spread across Steve's face, his attention never leaving his movie.

"I know you." He said holding out one palm. "And I know Nat." The other palm was parallel before fingers intertwined. "And let me just say, I sail it."

"Ship it." Peter corrected.

"What?"

"The saying is 'you ship' it ."

"Oh, then I ship it. I don't know why I didn't see it before." Steve said affirmatively.

"Yeah, me too." Peter agreed.

Bucky stood dumbfounded at the two of them.

"You two are acting like a bunch of school girls. You know that?"

"Good idea, write her a note. Do you like me? Check `yes or no', " Steve chuckled.

Bucky blinked a few times unable to fathom the stupidity of Steven Grant Rogers and his willing accomplice, Peter.

All he could utter was a curt bye, before turning on his heels and leaving.

His room was still dark, but through the ajar door he could see the dancing of colors and shadows from the television screen.

Sam was standing near the doorway with tight lips and crossed arms.

"What took you so damn long?!" He asked before bolting downstairs.

"You okay ?" Bucky asked surprised by the sudden motion.

"Gotta puke!" he yelled.

"Why didn't you just use the bathroom here ya dope?" he called.

"I'm not sure which way it's coming out, that's why."Sam screamed before adding, for everyone's information that the bathroom was off limits for at least an hour as something very 'unpleasant' was about to happen.

"Well, if you weren't awake before that, you are now." Bucky said to Natasha.

She sat upright in bed watching the screen in absolute still and silence.

Her legs and arms still felt heavy and her head was fuzzy. She wanted so badly to leave, but she was too tired. She'd hoped the sedative would wear off before Bucky came back. Not remembering much of what happened in the hours before, didn't erase the feeling that she had done the unthinkable.

His bedroom told a story all on its own. Someone had cleaned up the debris from the demolished vent, but the gaping hole in the ceiling wasn't covered. The comforter had rips in it, and streaks of light from holes in the wall and door streamed into the otherwise dark room. Feeling stripped with all her weapons gone, she felt absolutely naked both emotionally and physically.

Bucky thought she would be happy, maybe even relieved that he was there. Instead he met with the usual stony quiet and frosty coolness he had become accustomed to before the ordeal started.

"I brought food, if you're up to it." he offered.

No answer.

"What are you watching?" he tried, even though he recognized the background of arctic tundra from a nature documentary.

Nada.

He waited awhile.

"Are you warm enough?"

Nothing.

"Natasha…...?"

"How bad was it?" She asked simply.

"How bad was what?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

"It wasn't any worse than anything any of us has ever gone through, " he answered truthfully.

She shot him an ugly side glance.

"Liar."

One thing James hated more than being called a murderer, when he had no

control over it, was being called a liar. He felt his neck get hot.

"Fine. If you wanna talk. Let's talk about how you shouldn't steal other people's prescriptions and scare the hell out of all of us, Peter included. Who, by the way, watched you try to shoot yourself!" he said in a low dark voice.

This took her by surprise making her feel even worse than before. Bucky's anger fizzled, and regret took over.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time.

" No, I shouldn't have said that Nat. I was being a jerk."

"You've been nothing but nice. . I'm the one who should apologize."

He knew he risked the end of their conversation by bringing up the topic of shooting her, but if that caused her to steal in the first place it needed to be addressed.

"Peter told me about the scar. I get why you've been avoiding me all this time. I don't blame you, and I'm so so sorry I hurt you Nat," he apologized.

She never held that against him, it was Hydra that had taken him, and any hope she had of him returning, away.

What she couldn't get over was the offense his loving and leaving, but that was unfair, especially since he knew nothing about it.

"It's fine," she replied. " If I had any idea what I would put everyone through today, I..."

" I know. You don't have to say it." He said squeezing her hand." Can we call a truce now ?"

She tried to smile. "Yes."

He returned it. . "Okay good. You want a slice?"

"No thank you. How'd your phone call go?"

Bucky pulled out four slices for himself and started to eat, explaining what happened at the warehouse and his conversation with Shuri.

Natasha heard without really listening. Instead she took the opportunity to notice the way his lips formed words . The way he spoke slightly out of the corner of his mouth to accommodate a lopsided grin that waited to show itself. She watched the way his nose slightly wrinkled when he dropped sauce on his shirt. The flex of his arms when he put them behind his head to watch television. Soft blue eyes didn't shine just as much when rimmed by dark exhausted circles, reminding her that at some point she had promised take watch.

"You should sleep," she suggested after awhile.

"Trying to get rid of me already?" he asked.

She shrugged. "You look tired."

"So you've said. Hey, if you want some privacy I can go downstairs. There's no need to insult," he said seriously closing the pizza box abruptly.

She panicked realizing she offended him. His leaving was the very last thing she wanted.

"I didn't mean it like…."

He smirked.

"You're playing with me ?" She asked a tiny bit unsure.

" I was, but if you do want some time alone I can go. It's not a big deal."

" I prefer if you stayed, but I know the boys probably need you too."

The words were out so quickly, she didn't have time to catch them.

" I need him!?" She thought.

"She needs me?" He thought.

Bucky would stay awake a hundred years, never leaving that spot, if it made her feel better.

Despite the admission, he kept it light, flipping his palm down in a lack of concern.

"Those idiots can take care of themselves for a few hours. I have a new mission for us." He challenged.

Despite the admission, he kept it light, flipping his palm down in a lack of concern.

"Those idiots can take care of themselves for a few hours. I have a new mission for us." He challenged.

I have a new mission for us.

If a phrase could kill, she'd have been destroyed.

"What's that?"

"We are going to finish one whole movie, without interruption. No puking, no Peter, no doctors, deal?"

"Deal."

"We are going to finish one whole movie, without interruption. Deal?"

"Deal."

_**-Thanks for reading have a lovely holiday! Want to see the story go a certain direction or just a lovely moment of fluff written in? Comment Please!**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Another short and sweet addition. Over 50 followers! That's awesome. Thanks for putting up with all the typos and rough edges. I've gone back to edit over the months. Proofreading while simultaneously working full-time isn't easy. Disney Plus came out this week! It's crazy how a single movie could bring back criss-cross applesauce afternoons of juice boxes and popcorn. I don't own anything including the one title mentioned here. For some reason I loved that mermaid movie when I was little. I thought why not make her like it too?**

**Enjoy this little clip. Not flirting or anything but you've got such pretty eyes. I'm glad you're using them to read this, makes me happy. ;)**

**-x-x-**

"So what'll it be ma'am?" Bucky asked flipping through titles. "Action, adventure, suspense maybe…?"

"I think we had enough of that for one day."

"True, what's your favorite movie then?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away, and her cheeks gave way to the faintest hint of pink.

"Okay, now I'm curious. What is it?"

"What's yours?"

"I asked first."

She shook her head and crossed her arms.

"C'mon," he said poking her shoulder. " I promise I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will."

"Fine, I'll be a gentleman and laugh behind your back_._"

"You're not going to drop this are you?"

"Not a chance."

She wanted to attempt a friendship with him, and after the stunt she had pulled earlier, he deserved that much. Forgetting their past was impossible (for her), but it didn't mean that the future of their friendship had to be. Having another person in her life that genuinely cared for her was a commodity she couldn't afford to turn down. Friendship meant sharing, so share she did.

"It's called The Thirteenth Year."

" A documentary?" he guessed typing in the title. It sounded like a murder mystery or a boring videography of a deity. It made sense to him that Natasha would like something serious like that. It took him by surprise when a Disney movie popped up describing, a coming of age story where a boy turns into…

"..a mermaid?" Bucky asked skeptically.

"It's ridiculous."

"It's not what I was expecting, but let's watch it." he said trying to cover his surprise with support.

"You're judging me," she accused playfully.

"I'm really trying not to."

"There's a backstory," she explained.

He gasped, " You're secretly a mermaid?"

"Not exactly."

In line with her newest friendship experiment, she told a story.

Her first week at SHIELD was a horrible one. They questioned Clint's sanity a hundred times, and did everything except spit in her direction as she walked by. A black widow becoming part of SHIELD? It was unheard of and dangerous, especially when her hands were still red with agents blood. Fury would have torn Clint apart if it wasn't for Coulson intervening. She was interrogated during the day, and locked in more of a cell, than a room at night.

Clint planted himself outside, sending a message to anyone who tried, that they would have to go through him first. Night after night her light remained on, and he watched the shadows of her tiny feet pace. Since neither of them were sleeping, he finally broke into the room with a vhs player, an old t.v, and a stack full of movies that he hadn't gotten around to watching.

He camped out on the floor of her bedroom with snacks and a pistol on his knee. She didn't understand him at all. He remained relaxed even though Fury threatened to deliver his a*s on a silver platter, at least three times a day. Her pacing continued, and the sixty watt bulb shone steadily.

Most of the movies picked were classic cartoons, some of which the Redroom had used to teach the girls english. Clint noticed that a particular shiver would overtake her during those. Several years went by before he learned the reason why. It was no coincidence that on the same afternoon Snow White and the Seven Dwarves were regally escorted from the collection to a bulls eye in the shooting gallery.

By the seventh night, she was too exhausted to pace, and he was only surviving by the grace of espresso. That's when the cheesiest plot caught her attention, and she took a seat beside him on the cold concrete floor. It was a live action movie, which meant no flashbacks and nothing to remind her of the past.

Chez Starbuck, a boy thrown into a new confusing world without a clue as to why, was the perfect distraction. The world of aquatic fantasy and human adolescence crashed into one, and she found herself enthralled. A little magic in her reality was exactly what she needed. The ending was left open just enough to let the imagination run wild with the knowledge that whatever came next he would be just fine because he was surrounded by people who loved him. Feel good and warm, so far from where she found herself. It was numbing, and gave her hope that maybe just maybe she would be okay too. Natasha slept that night. After all those years of unknowingly running, she was oh so tired. The archer covered her with a blanket and finally the light was turned off.

" I think that was the night I started trusting Clint. We still watch it every once in awhile. It's dumb, but nice," she finished.

She shared something personal and he could not ignore how huge that was.

It surprised her when Bucky didn't crack a single joke. She looked at his face serious, yet soft. He thought for a moment.

"Ginger tea. I can't stand the stuff, but my mom used to make us drink it all the time. We had it as dinner more than once," he explained. " It makes me think of her. You know? When I have it. Makes me feel like I can still make her happy, even though she's gone. It doesn't make sense but it's…"

"..nice," she volunteered.

"Yeah, real nice."

He told her he was curious about the movie, but if it was a tradition between her and Clint they could watch something else. Even though she put on a very good front of insisting they didn't have to, she was glad he didn't mind suffering through it.

"Alright then, I'll change and we'll do this thing," he said clapping his hands together.

His closet was rows upon rows. Drawers and drawers of clothes he didn't need and hardly used. Suits and hoodies, denim, cotton and silk. It had a department store smell he hadn't gotten used to.

Natasha caught a glimpse of his torso behind the door. Impeccable attention to detail, is all it was. But her gaze stayed on ab-watch a second too long to justify it as that.

He poked his head out the door way. Hair messy from fighting with his collars.

" You want a jacket or something?"

She couldn't remember changing out of his shirt and into one of the scratchy med bay cotton blends, but it wasn't comfortable.

She thought about the funny shocked face Peter would make if she went downstairs obviously wearing something of Bucky's. It would take Tony a century to get over the shock, and another century for him to shut up about it.

"Sure."

He found a new green long sleeve and brought it for her.

She made a face.

"What, is green not your color?" he said backtracking.

"No, it's fine."

Emotions playing on her face was just a product of sedation, now she had to come up with a stupid excuse as to why she didn't want the shirt. A shirt with tags meant he had never worn it. It meant it didn't smell like him. She wouldn't be able to pretend that he knew the twenty-first century's connotation of sharing clothes, if it was only part of Tony's goal to stock his wardrobe with as he put it, "At least some form of class."

"You like things with a hood right?" he said searching the hangers.

"What about the Captain America sweater the paparazzi always catch you in ?" she asked.

"Catch me? They don't catch me," he answered indignantly. " Almost all the merchandise profits go to charity. I'm advertising."

" Sure, Barnes."

"Keep it up and you're sleeping with Steve tonight. "

"That's your thing not mine," she joked.

"You sound jealous," he said changing tactics.

"Only always," she replied quietly more in truth than anything else.

His hand paused on one of the hangers. The air around him became incredibly thick as a sharp pain cut across the length of his skull. He dropped to one knee taking a fistful of clothes with him.

_Only Always_

He let out a grunt of pain tugging on the strands of hair closest to the hurt.

A muffled groan slipped past his lips.

"Is everything okay in there?" Natasha asked.

He waited to catch his breath before answering, "Yeah, everything's fine."

Pushing to his feet he grabbed the sweater he was looking for off the floor and returned to the low light of his room. She could tell something was the matter as he pushed his fingertips into his eyes with frustration.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "Just a little headache is all."

He helped her change, careful to keep his eyes turned away from anything important. Afterwards he sat back in the chair twisting and trying to hold his head at the least painful angle.

The few feet between them felt like oceans, and Natasha couldn't stand it.

Muscle memory had her pulling back just enough covers for a Bucky sized spot.

She tugged on the edge of his sleeve. A jolt of adrenaline ran through her realizing he could easily say no and it would be a Banner situation all over again.

But she would do whatever it took to keep him close. If it was just as friends she'd be more than happy for it.

However, one could argue that friends don't share the same bed, but this was a strange time dammit and strictly for medical purposes. As soon as she was well, and could think straight she'd find a way to be nice while restoring a healthy distance.

"What is it sweetheart?" he whispered not noticing what she had done.

"You need to rest," she told him. "Lie down,"

At first he was taken aback, but the pull of being in his own bed after several nights away won over. Being next to her was the cherry on top.

" Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I thought we agreed on not sleeping?"

"Sleeping and resting are two different things. You need rest. You're running on empty, I can tell."

"Fine," he said crawling under the covers. " But we're getting through this movie."

Friday projected onto the ceiling, so they could lay flat.

At first they decided to adhere to the invisible unspoken barrier between them. He kept his metal arm tucked behind his head and the other at his side, while she kept hers crossed. But as the minutes passed their bodies began to relax and reach for the other.

She battled with both the angel and demon on her shoulder. The latter always won. Why the other even tried was a mystery to her. Of course she would regret it later, and have to rebuild the months of internal therapy, but a few minutes of being in his arms was worth it. She placed her head against his chest, and nestled closer when his arm slowly closed around her.

"James?" she asked after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Think you can forgive me? I'm not going to make it," she said stifling a yawn.

I mean how could she not fall asleep? She hadn't felt that safe in decades, not to mention that at eleven p.m, the next wave of the virus had been triggered and her immune system was again fighting a losing battle.

"No problem," he said, closing his eyes as well."We'll try again tomorrow."

The headache had taken over the veins in his head. It felt like they were pumping lead instead of blood. Something about the whole situation was all too recognizable. The closer he was, the worse the headache became. But the closer he was the better, because he knew she was safe. After spending three days with the broken soul that was Natasha Romanoff, her safety had become his top priority . The threat an unbelievable migraine couldn't change that. His last thoughts were of Shuri, the smell of Natasha's shampoo and a glimpse of her at the end of a table he didn't recognize.

She looked so beautiful, so young. He tried to hold onto the image, but it left quickly leaving only a warm prickle of something forgotten in its place.

Peter crept up the stairs and peeped into the Winter Soldier's bedroom, he used the zoom feature on his phone to get the two in focus.

"Sorry Peter you don't have clearance, this is privacy protocol" Friday said by the way of a phone alert.

"C'mon, just this once or no one will believe me!" he begged.

"Allow me a moment. I will ask for clearance. I believe Sir would want to see this as well."

Seconds later Spider-man's answer came.

" Just this once Peter, then please return to bed."

"Cool," The picture came out blurry but still did the trick." Goodnight Friday."

"Goodnight ," she said as the lock to Buck's door clicked in place.

-x-x-

**Thanks for making my day! -****tigpop****, ****SpringLetters****, ****Jhessill****, ****singbrina** **, ****IsChickenRoastedOrToasted**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Thank you so much for reading. I hope that the headaches of trying to finish this chapter were worth it! **_

**Well, that took forever. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Writer's block had me in a choke-hold for awhile.**

**I'm writing from the viewpoint that Natasha is in her early stages of her career. She's still somewhat caring and curious. The Winter Soldier has not gone through as much torture and memory wiping as he had by the time Civil War happened. I like to think that if he could remember Steve's mother decades later. He would be able to remember so much more at this point and time. **

**I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. Thank goodness for Marvel, Marvin Goodman, and Stan Lee. I'm just using this platform as practice. Who knows maybe one day I'll have my own little universe. Thanks for the comments and favorites. I love you!**

_**Happy Reading You Gorgeous Being!**_

-**Flashback - Africa- The First Mission**

He pushed the nozzle beyond the outline of red, all the way to that little grey area where the paint started to chip on the gauge. The water slowly heated from cool to scalding. No matter the temperature he never seemed to get warm, there was always a bitter cold. He showed no restraint when squeezing the gooey liquids of soap and shampoo out of the bottle creating a thick lather in his hair and over his body. He was careful to maneuver around the bandages. The wound was tender but no longer as painful. He tried to bring the visual of the boy, Steve, back to his mind. Nothing came. It was only in the presence of the girl that his mind would flicker to something lost.

The hallucinations brought a sort of neutrality between him and the agony. He couldn't remember ever not hurting, not hating someone, anything. He couldn't remember ever wanting something, or having a real desire besides the ones the handlers planted.

He wondered at the fact he was able to _feel_ anything at all. He wanted more of it, which meant indirectly, he wanted more of her.

It wasn't a sexual animalistic wanting. He had felt that before, given into it even. The other hired guns he worked with usually celebrated their success with loose women in whatever town they happen to be in. A vulgar thing. A daze of unfeeling meaningless motions. A release of tension that immediately returned.

She was different. There was a peace with her, a sliver of kindness, curiosity, and hope that was gone in everyone else he'd encountered in that life.

The rush of the water and his contemplation drowned out the sound of his new peace being attacked.

He snapped to attention, at the sound of a scuffle, followed by a faint yelp when her air was cut off. The stolen pants fit uncomfortably tight as he charged out of the room with a gun in hand.

Unfortunately, the doctor from the hospital hadn't taken a double shift after all. Natalia was caught in his choke hold with a needle meant for his drip, aimed at her jugular. She had only a few moments before oxygen flow was completely cut off from her brain.

"Ahh, and there is our other friend!" he exclaimed. The thick African accent boomed and ricocheted around the quiet room.

The soldier pointed his gun at the doctor's chest, calculating the course of the needle if the man dropped. The dead weight could still pierce a vital artery. He decided her best chance was if he let her go willingly.

"Why are you here? Who are you?" the doctor demanded.

"No one important," Soldat answered calmly.

"Oh, so this is a social visit then? I would've tidied up if I had known," he sneered.

" You weren't supposed to be here," Natalia explained with limited air. The tips of her toes were straining for ground.

"Who sent you?" the man growled. "Was it Darweshi?"

" No one sent us," the assassin answered as he watched the tip of the needle pierce skin. "We just needed a place to sleep."

" I've hidden so long, too long. Escaped and changed everything. Yet they still hunt me? With two _Gorra Ou's_ at that," the man grunted in thought.

The doctor had narrowly escaped a tribal army by assuming a new identity.

He had risen through the ranks as a ruthless child soldier, escaping by paying his way out, running, and changing his name. His only desire to make some sort of amends for his actions, taking years of struggle to receive an education. He lived with crippling paranoia. Now there were two dangerous strangers in his home, and he acted accordingly.

"Don't flatter yourself," the Soldat said carefully taking a slow step forward. " If we wanted you dead. You would be."

The man's grip loosened a fraction at the truth of the matter.

"No! You only want me to release her," he argued, stepping back and tightening around her again.

Yes, more than anything that's what he wanted, but he couldn't let on.

Since he wouldn't be close enough to pull Natalia out of his hold and engaging wasn't an option he was reduced to use a reverse psychology of sorts.

He shrugged, " My job is done, and she has outlived her use."

He could read the surprise and betrayal in her face, but ignored it.

"...what I don't need is to be mixed up in whatever ridiculous tribal fraction, you're involved in to make things messy. I have a flight to catch in the morning. You or certainly not the girl will stand in my way."

To his horror, she went limp.

Only her fingers gave a slight twitch as warning, before she retrieved her knife and sliced at her captors hand.

He yelped in surprise, when his feet were kicked from under him. The young trainee delivered a sharp kick to his temple, successfully knocking him out.

It was possible that she had already been deleted from the program, and that this mission had been a last minute ruse to get rid of her for good. It didn't matter, she wouldn't die by means of an angry medical worker who had snuck up on her. Even if she was on her own, she always had something up her sleeve, or, in her waistband for that matter.

The Winter Soldier felt a rush of relief and surprise as she flipped over the bed loaded her gun, and pointed back at him.

"You were going to kill me?" she hissed.

"Of course not I wanted him to let you go."

"You said I had outlived my usefulness."

She had believed his little charade, and it had hurt her. He dropped his gun.

"He was unstable, obvious military training. He could've stabbed you, even if I had shot him."

He had his hands raised in surrender. She didn't believe him, but the fact was clear. If he wanted to kill her, he would've. Yet there he was, weaponless.

Slowly her gun lowered.

"I'll tie him down in the basement, by the time he wakes up. We'll be gone"

"Or we can just dispose of him now."

"I'll take him to the basement," she repeated.

As far as she was concerned, there had been enough killing for one day.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he insisted when she returned.

"It's fine, you did what you had to," she said not meeting his eyes.

"I wouldn't have let him hurt you."

"Even if you had," she said grabbing the fallen equipment. " it would've been a failure on my part. I wasn't as vigilant as I should've been."

She motioned for him to sit on the bed. Her hands were cold as she peeled the dirty bandage from his side. She gingerly poked and prodded. Hearing about his quick healing and seeing were two different things. The incision was still oozing fluid and blood, but only the first layers of skin were clearly affected.

"That's amazing," she said with a tone full of awe. " How does it feel?"

"Fine," he answered more concerned with how her touch was affecting him than what the bullet had done.

She cleaned and sprayed with antiseptic, before carefully getting the i.v situated. His temperature and pulse were higher and faster than she liked but it was to be expected. She was very gentle, with a calm concentrated face to match.

His gaze never left it. He watched and he waited.

A particularly worried expression the widow gave, helped him blink the brown haired woman back into existence.

-"_Oh James, honey. You've really gone and done it this time." she cooed placing a slab of cold meat on his bruised cheek. _

_Blonde hair and blue eyes peeked around her shoulder sheepishly. _

"_It was my fault ," the boy said." I'm sorry."_

"_I couldn't just let them pound 'em ma," his own pained voice explained. _

" _I told you I had them on the ropes! I had it handled."_

"_I know you did Stevie," he murmured._

_The smell of turpentine filled the air around them, before a cloth sticky with it was dabbed on his bruises._

"_Just like your father, he never could keep himself out of trouble," the kind lady tutted. _

"_What do you want me to do Ma? He's my best friend?"_

"_What I would like is for you two boys to stay out of scraps. Stop coming home black and blue and giving your ole' ma a heart attack. But since that's not happening anytime soon , you keep watching each other's backs," she instructed kissing both of them on the cheek. _

"_Till' the end of the line?" Steve asked, holding out his hand. _

"_Yeah, Pal the end of the line," he agreed clapping his palm into the smaller one. _-

He closed his eyes and the memory was over. He was remembering his friend and now the brown haired woman was identified as his mother. The concept was baffling. He'd never given much thought to who he was or should be. Hydra had always been his identity. Normalcy was fiction. Now he realized there was something before, a time when he was happy. When he had people with gentle touches, people who cared whether he came home or not.

_Were they still alive? Did he kill them?_

Vowing to find that out , a ray of something akin to purpose blossomed inside of him, and it was all because of her.

"Does that feel okay?" she asked her voice bringing him to the present.

"Really good," he murmured with a voice full of emotion.

He was looking at her so intently, that she felt bare under his scrutiny. Wiping her hands against her thighs. She stood, using the suggestion of securing the perimeter an exit strategy.

The spell would be broken.

"Stay," he ordered forcefully at first before softening it to a plea. "Stay, please, just for a minute."

She sat down slowly, freezing as one hand of flesh and another of metal were placed on both sides of her face. He turned her this way and that, becoming entranced by doe eyed brown eyes melting into electric greens. A gorgeous kaleidoscope of color. He pulled her closer without realizing it.

"Soldat are you feeling well?" she questioned shakily.

"No," he said. "I never am. "

He no longer saw his mother, just her. Only her.

"Beautiful," he spoke the statement like a prayer.

And beautiful she was. A beauty so pure it brought back a beauty forgotten.

One hand dropped from her face the other curled just around the back of her neck, pulling her in. His gaze played on her lips only moments before his mouth found them. Soft gentle nothing rushed. She floated in suspended animation. Absolute stillness before coming alive under his grasp. She pressed the kiss back into him. Mouths triggered explosions by exploration. They stayed like that somewhere between seconds and forever. She had never kissed anyone, but his gentle brushes were skilled like a painter's against her. They broke apart at the same moment, out of air. A single tear spilled by a broken man fell onto her cheek.

"Something happened to me," he whispered.

Now she understood how dangerous caring was. The Redroom had taught her ruthlessness, cruelty, and vicious loyalty above any cost. However, at that moment she would disobey any order to help him. She would destroy anyone who had a hand in breaking him, no questions asked, even if it meant turning on everything she knew.

"I need to find them," he explained with an unfocused gaze.

"Who?" she asked cupping his face and wiping the tears away with the pad of her thumb.

"Them," he repeated as if she had seen the same things he did. He was speaking out of his head. She knew it and would still help, not as a subordinate but an ally.

"Stay," he answered simply.

She laid down beside him obediently. She placed her head and hand on his chest, he clung to her like a lifeline.

A few hours later, some lucidity returned to him, bringing the realization of failure as a companion.

"I know you'll have to report my malfunction," he muttered staring at the rough popcorn like texture of the ceiling.

She looked at him, startled by the break in silence and the suggestion.

"My actions are unacceptable," he stated.

Kissing Natalia wouldn't be an issue, it's not like they valued her virtue. But the remembering, and the vulnerability would be punished with the utmost severity. He had defected on assignments before, forgetting where he was, or going blank on the entire mission itself. Just as dangerous were the random surges of confusion or guilt that would cause him to pause or hesitate. Waterboarding and shock therapy would be waiting for him.

"I'm not going to say anything," she assured, taking him by surprise.

He turned to look down at her.

She looked back confidently, with what he assumed, was childish arrogance.

"If they find out I malfunctioned, and you said nothing, you will be in danger."

"I'm always in danger, at least this is something I chose," she whispered.

The thought that she would put herself in harm's way, on his behalf especially, really upset him.

"Do you ever wish ..?" she began.

"No !" he interrupted pushing her away as he stood up. " I don't _wish._ If you're going to stay alive you can't wish_._ You can't _dream_. You can't want anything or _anyone _! You think only of the mission, and of yourself. It's the only way. Now, tell me you understand."

The words cut, but she didn't let it show.

" I never doubted the program. Not once. But today...today I watched a man die because of me, and I felt everything. I was ripped apart. That feeling, that gaping hole in my chest that I've lost something. I understand _that_ perfectly."

He looked off into the distance, his body almost feeling the electricity rip through his muscles and scramble his brain. Hiding everything that happened, was the only way to avoid the chair and keep her safe.

If she wouldn't tell, it would be up to him to keep it together.

The soldier. Calloused, aggressive, impassive. He'd have to find a way to return to that place. To that person.

" I said what I said. I will assure them that your first mission was successful. You'll earn your title. I'll leave and we'll forget that any of this ever happened," he said with finality.

She was sad, but deep down knew it was the only way. They couldn't just get up and leave to chase the phantoms of his shattered psyche.

" If that's what's best," she said quietly. " I'll secure the vicinity for the night. We have a long day tomorrow."

The house was quiet, and the doctor was still unconscious. She slipped out into the night, noticing the warm African air had a sort of sweetness to it, just like the kiss. She tried to hold on to the sensation, so different from the freezing emptiness she was used to. It was over though, and what they had would have to be enough. She circled the home and all was quiet. Making her way back into the room, they shared a somewhat forlorn expression. The door shut.

"I can take the first watch," he offered trying to make amends, but she took it as a sign they were back to orders and subjection.

She nodded, laying on the opposite side of the bed and curling into herself.

The lights were turned out, and it was silent for a long time.

A soft "Natalia" came out of the quiet.

She turned on her side. He was reaching for her, drawing her in. Arms encircled her small frame protectively.

"I'm sorry things have to be this way," he whispered with his chin resting atop her head.

A long pause.

" Do you ever wish...?" she started finishing her question from earlier. ".. that someday things might be different? "

"No, and there is no point in it, " he answered bluntly.

" Be honest," she prodded, while idly tracing out the features of his face in the black.

" I am," he answered breathlessly as slender fingers outlined the curves of his mouth.

"Deep down, somewhere do you feel like maybe all of this is for nothing? That we're wrong?"

She was bordering treason with that question, but the sunrise would bring so many ugly things that he decided to humor her with truth while the serenity lasted.

So, instead, he softly replied to her, to himself, and to the ghosts of his mother and friend, "Mолько всегда Natalia, только всегда."

_**-x-**_

_**Gorra Ou's - african slang for a vanilla colored person**_

_**только всегда- Only Always in Russian**_

_**Soldat- Soldier in Russian**_

**_A really crazy secret that I will only tell you guys on the basis of somewhat anonymity , is that I have never kissed anyone. Guys have tried more than once, but the whole concept kind of freaks me out. I've had wonderfully cuddly affectionate guy friends who make writing about that stuff easy, but this kiss, destroyed me in trying to do it justice. _**

**_I want it to be special to be worth it. I mean that's the story you'll hold onto forever. Someone's lips touching yours for the first time. What a waste if the person ends up being a tool, you know?_**

**_But, I'm young, I've got time right? (* nervous laughter). I'm going to stand by it's sacredness despite the weird look I just got from you. :P_**

_**If you have tests, presentations, promotions or just a tough week ahead of you, this is a sign you're going to absolutely CRUSH IT. **_

**_Bye For Now -_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Is there anyone left out there?**

**Oh, hey! There you are gorgeous. I'm glad you're reading this, because it means the universe did it's job in keeping your feet on the ground and air in your lungs. Let me join it in saying you're something very special. Don't forget it. **

**First of all I wish you and your families the best during this time of horribleness. I haven't abandoned this story, as with everything in life, it's just been put on hold. **

**Thanks for all the views, follows, and comments. **

**PrincessCecelia** **& ****Grace713555** **& ****SpringLetters** **& ****Jhessill** **\- your comments make me smile. **

**Tigpop****\- you made me pick up the pencil and finish this chapter thanks for all of your kind words! They mean so very much.**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**-Wakanda- POV Universe- 6 Hrs. Before the Antidote's ETA in New York -**

A woman with a slick blonde pixie cut typed furiously on the keyboard of a Wakandan computer. Her ears straining any incoming footsteps. It was hard to hear over the sound of her heartbeat. She pushed up her sleeve to check the time. Only minutes were left to add her name to the log of doctors who were traveling to New York with the antidote. She passed through walls and walls of code. It was a long shot. Wakanda hadn't stayed impenetrable by chance, but she had come too far to give up now.

A part of her was still in shock that she wasn't one of the doctors chosen to go.

_She_ was the one who had made many of the final suggestions to the medicine, and _she _never doubted that they would work because... _she_ was the one that had created the virus in the first place.

A plan twenty years in the making was going to be destroyed if she couldn't get on that plane.

Her and her team had planned for every variable, every fluctuating chance of possibility that may have arisen. Time, location, even the weather had been prepared for. All of the targeted Avengers were sick. She had two people inside S.H.I.E.L.D and another two stationed at the tower. The final part of the plan was for her to be on that flight, destroy the antidote, get inside the building, and watch them die herself.

What she hadn't counted on was the indescribable force of stupidity that resulted when fragile male egos were tested. She had offered too many opinions and too many solutions. The male-shoveness arses got jealous, and to get back at her, chose to leave her behind.

"Stay back to log in data my a*s," she whispered.

Okoye was making her final rounds for the night. She adjusted her spear on hearing curse words, from what should've been Shuri's empty laboratory. It was pitch black besides the glow of the computer screen reflecting on the face of a desperate doctor.

Okoye got close enough to see what she was trying to do before slamming the butt of her weapon hard into the ground.

"And what do you think you are doing?!" she demanded.

Even though Leyva was taller than Okoye, it didn't feel that way.

"Nothing ma'am I was just..." she started.

"Hacking into our systems." Okoye finished angrily grabbing the woman by the crook of her arm. " I knew it was a mistake to let you Americans in. I told T'challa a million times."

The beautiful warrior quickly undid everything Leyva had done, , and began to take her to a holding quarter.

Leyva was strong, and never one to cry. She never cried, or smiled or showed much of any emotion for that matter. . That god given right had been taken away from her a long time ago. All she had was a stone cold resting b-face and hopes of revenge.

. But right then a single hot tear raced down her face reminding her just how badly she wanted this.

"No!" she yelled slapping at Okoye.

The General's eyes took on a crazed look, as she fought not to pin Leyva's collar to the wall behind her.

" You have ten seconds to explain yourself. If you want to keep breathing, I better like the answer."

" I think there's something wrong with the antidote going to Avengers tower," Leyva lied. " I tried to tell them, but no one would listen. I need to be on that plane!"

"If you were supposed to be on that flight. You would be plain and simple," Okoeye said, snatching the woman up again and continuing to the cell.

"They won't listen to me!" Leyva explained. " Those pigs are too concerned about meeting freaking Tony Stark and taking all the credit!"

Okoye paused, she always hated that funny shaped beard, and could never understand the hype around such a tiny man.

Leyva followed that distaste by playing the feminist card.

" It's not a coincidence that the only other woman on that plane happens to be sleeping with the head of research development! Please," she continued. " I need to be there. It might be a matter of life and death. I was trying to add my name to the list , that's all."

Okoye scrutinized the woman carefully. Reasoning that another doctor couldn't hurt, especially if it meant putting some misogynist men in their places.

" Hurry, get your things quickly," she ordered.

Leyva tore down the hallways and found her room. She was only worried about grabbing two things. Her pack of passports and currency and an unmarked nine millimeter pistol. She met Okoye on the roof. The plane had already begun takeoff hovering feet off the ground.

"Let down the hangar, and that is an order!" Okoye shouted into her earpiece and over the hum of the engine.

Like a light leading into heaven the flap began to lower, making the landing strip glow. Leyva clutched her duffel closer as the wind whipped furiously around her.

"They need your name for the manifest!" Okoye shouted as she herded her into the aircraft.

"Leyva!" the doctor replied.

"Last name?"

"Withers. Leyva Withers reporting for duty."

"

**Bucky's POV -**

She was calling my name. I liked the sound of it so much I would probably follow it to the grave and back.

"James?".

It sounded strange though, not at all the way I liked it dipped in sugar and kind of sassy off the though I was only half awake I knew something was off. I tried to open my eyes but the sound of a painfully loud gong had me shut them again. Weirdly, that's when I could see her. A dark muscled arm had her in a choke hold. I needed to get to her. She lost consciousness, and I would've ripped the guy in two if the gong didn't return and have me holding my head again. The next moment she was fine. Even better she was with me. The lights were off, but I could feel her fingers wandering across my face leaving sparks of electricity as they went. I hugged her close, as tight as I could without hurting her.. I kissed her.

Oh man, did I kiss her.

"James, I'll be back," she said.

No. Where was she going? Why did she sound so scared. The guy was gone. As I pulled her in closer I realised I was gripping at nothing but air. My hands fumbled wildly to find her, to make her understand she was safe. I wouldn't let anything hurt her.

Another cymbal crash. Blinding pain.

"Dammit where were those things coming from?" I thought angrily.

Friday turning the lights on bright, brought me back to the right time. I was back in the tower and my eyes were still closed. So, whatever I was seeing behind my eyelids wasn't real. I needed to snap out of it.

I tried to blink through the haze. I couldn't tell if it was a panic attack or some kind of relapse, but I knew I wasn't all there, and that Nat was still in trouble. I absolutely destroyed my headboard and the plaster of the wall behind it to grab another gun I had stashed.

I aimed true and steady from memory to the audience of an empty room.

I heard her voice, she had been in the room with me at some point, right?

I tried to separate fact from fiction. Only one thing was clear: she needed me, and I couldn't find her.

"Friday?" I called.

"Yes. Sgt. Barnes?" she answered.

"What year is it?"

Friday answered.

"Is the tower being attacked?" I asked.

" No sir, there is no need for the gun. However, Ms. Romanoff is experiencing extreme discomfort and may require assistance. She refuses to alert ." The A.I said.

The bed was empty though. My room was changing colors and shapes. It was like when Steve overlayed two different photos. All of the features and details started to merge, and I couldn't tell exactly what he was looking at. Two scenes from two different places, different times.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, tapping the barrel of the gun to my forehead.

"Get it together Buck," I ordered myself.

I had to ground myself enough to process, so I started off with five things I could see.

_**One**_\- The color of my carpet ivory with specks of blue.

_**Two-**_ There was a hole in my ceiling. A hole me and Pete had made earlier crashing through the vent trying to save Natasaha.

_**Three-**_ The slick black tarp that was used to cover the hole, billowed in and out as the air tried to flow freely again.

Just like my breathing five seconds in, five seconds out.

Slowly the furniture and the colors of the mystery room disappeared. I saw my much too big closet in its rightful place.

_**Four- **_The Iron Man night light Tony had put in as a joke when Steve and I were on vacation. It's mini reactor glowed dimly, beckoning my sanity back to shore.

I was home. I knew this place. I felt a strange sizzling sensation at the back of my head. It seemed to clear up my vision completely, and the sound of the gong was gone.

_**Five-**_ A familiar Captain America sweatshirt was on the floor . The one she had fallen asleep in.

I crawled over the side of the bed to find her legs tucked under in an awkward angle, she cradled her side. I was beside her in an instant.

I didn't know what to touch, so I didn't. Her breathing was shallow.

"Natasha, I'm here. You have to tell me what's going on. What hurts?"

She waved me off. I was starting to hate that little motion of hers.

"Nothing, it's just cramps," she lied.

I had sisters and a mother growing up. I would gladly fight the Germans again then to be in a household of women around "that time". Things got ugly very quickly, but it didn't scare me off.

" Okay well that still doesn't explain why you're on the floor," I said.

She said she was going on a run for tylenol, and that excuse would have checked out if she had actually made it there, instead of being sprawled out in front of me.

" I'll go get it." I responded quickly, " But you have to let me check you out first."

She gave me one hell of a look.

"Dammit we're being targeted Nat. For goodness sake let me check you over," I demanded.

She saw I wasn't going to drop it, and allowed me to help her lie flat. Friday read that her temperature was higher than the past few days. I felt her throat, checked her heart and moved down to her stomach.

"Do you mind?" I asked before lifting the edge of the pullover.

She looked off into the distance, past me, before shrugging a yes.

If I wasn't so worried about her, I don't know how I would've felt in the situation. As scared as I was that something may have been wrong I still got chills from being that close to her. My head still hurt something awful.

My fingertips brushed against a jagged scar above her hip. I had done that. I felt horrible, and would've said something, if she hadn't almost passed out when I moved down a little further. That spot seemed especially tender, and I didn't like the connotations. Emergency Response Barnes took over. She had all of the symptoms: high fever, stomach pains, tenderness around the abdomen. It could just be assumed that the vomiting and the pain were just a part of the virus, but coupled with the other things, I didn't like what it was spelling out.

"Natasha, we have to get you down to the Medbay now," I ordered.

"'I know," she sighed.

"What do you mean you know? You know your appendix might be bursting?" I asked sarcastically, my voice getting a little higher than normal.

She shrugged again. " The thought may have crossed my mind."

"What's wrong with you?" I asked before gathering her in my arms. The jostling hurt her.

"I'm sorry, but we have to get you to Bruce," I said, taking the steps by two.

"Sam! Sam?!" I shouted while stampeding through my apartment.

His head was stuck in my icebox.

"Yeah?" He answered.

"I have to take Natasha downstairs, I'll be back as soon as I can,"

He looked up from his rummaging, seeing something was seriously wrong.

"Shi*, is she okay?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly,"I hope so."

"Mr. Barnes please have Ms. Romanoff put on the mask provided for her before entering the elevator."

That was a quick fix. The elevator ride was short, but when the doors opened it was a blur of white coats, face masks and confusion. The six doctors who had come to meet us couldn't agree on whether to address the possible organ failure or shower us in bleach and acid first.

My shirt was balled up in her fist, some goon made an attempt to take her from me and caught an elbow to the face.. His hands clasped at his broken nose as blood squirted everywhere. I didn't have time to be sorry.

I was relieved when Bruce finally pushed through the cluster. He had a gurney with some type of plastic over it.

"Everyone calm down!" he ordered. "It's two hundred and fifty feet too the operating room in the bay no one is going to get exposed."

"You two," he said speaking to the one with the busted nose and guy to the right of him. "Go get cleaned up and head back to the lab..The rest of you are with me."

We wheeled Natasha into the Medbay past where Pepper slept, and into one of the bright white rooms they used for operating.

An older looking surgeon with white hair and thick glasses was already waiting. They still had to determine if it was in fact appendicitis, but everyone started sterilizing just in case.

I stood there looking stupid, like a deer in the headlights.

"Excuse me sir," the doctor said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yeah doc, sorry?"

"It seems we will have to remove the appendix right away. I'll need you to step out and let go." he said.

Let go? Crap, I didn't even notice I was holding her hand. I loosened my grip but she didn't. That girl was holding on with all her strength and let me tell you it was a lot.

"Sir please let go!" The doctor barked.

I ignored him, instead bending down to whisper into her ear. I stroked the hair out her face as I did.

"Sweetheart you gotta let go okay?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. The tides of water in emerald green eyes rose, she fought to hold back the river. That told me what she wanted more clearly than words ever could. So I didn't make her say it.

" Hey it's going to be alright." I winked at her, before catching the grumpy doctor by the shirt tail.

It was his turn to get a little intimate whisper session of his own.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?" I asked menacingly.

"Dr. Leonard," the man said shakily while fumbling to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Well, as you may know we don't do too well with people cutting us open. Call us crazy, but in this line of work we don't do too well in hospitals in general. Kinda spooks us. That's understandable right?" I asked, tightening my hold just a fraction.

"W-w-e-ell yes of course," he stuttered.

"Right so you understand why the lady is a little nervous?"

He nodded.

"So what I'm going to do is stay right here until you sedate her and _then_ I'll step out. But don't get too comfortable, because I'll be right outside that door and if anything goes wrong. I'm holding you responsible, got it?"

"Yes," the man trembled almost letting out a squeak when I finally let him go.

I may have laid it on a little thick, but I didn't want any trouble from him. Ordering me around, who did the guy think he was? My Ma? Not a chance.

"I'm not going anywhere," I told her, clasping her hand again.

They prepped for surgery and within ten minutes everything was ready.

A nurse placed a mask over her face.

"Ms. Romanoff, we're giving you something to sleep okay? Countdown from ten for me please."

I don't think she counted. She just looked at me. I held her gaze with a tiny grin on my face, the kind of lopsided ones that the girls used to like. I told her I'd see her in a little bit.

She seemed like she wanted to reply, before her eyes fluttered shut. Bruce squeezed my shoulder signalling it was time to leave.

"You're going to stay in here right?" I asked him.

"I'm not a surgeon but I'll keep an eye on things so don't worry."

My feet felt like lead as I left her in there.

Seconds felt like hours and the hours like days. Eventually I went to sit with Pepper to get my mind off of it.

Tony had waited until she fell asleep before going back to the lab.. He left his computer and a bunch of empty coffee cups as evidence. When I sat down her eyes opened immediately.

"Oh, sorry Pep. I didn't mean to wake you up." I said apologizing.

"You didn't, I just wanted Tony to leave. It's driving him crazy not being able to solve this."

"Playing possum are we?"

"It's for a good cause, he doesn't need to worry about me on top of everything. If I'm asleep, he feels a little less guilty."

"Do you need anything?" I asked.

"Some water please?" she asked.

I poured her a glass and helped her sit up.

"What's going on? I heard a lot of noise earlier," she inquired.

"Natasha's appendix burst. She's in surgery," I explained.

"Oh my god." she whispered.

We sat in silence. I flexed the panels in my arm when I was upset. A soft shifting and whirring noise that would drive Steve crazy. Pepper put a hand on my knee.

"Hey, she's going to be alright. Appendix removal is easy. She's been through worse."

I nodded, not bothering to hide my worry from her. Pepper was smart and discerning, of all the people I trusted, Pepper Potts was pretty high on that very short list. She was honest, and in a world of lies and liars, a truthful person is gold.

"So?" she asked after a while.

"So?" I picked an eyebrow up.

"_So_, what I'm trying to figure out is if you've been in love with her this whole time, or if this is new?"

I was floored.

"What?"

Pepper smiled, knowing she had struck a chord at least, if not the absolute truth.

I scratched my head.

"She questioned if we were even friends a few days ago. I'm just trying to be there for her."

" That's who you are as a person James. It's your nature to be there for people. Especially when they need someone. I feel like there's more to it though.

The whole stunt of everyone trying to put us together was getting old.

"Well I found out yesterday that I shot her. Scarred her life. Most guys would feel guilty about that kind of thing . Maybe what everyone is seeing is me trying to make up for that."

Pep looked down sadly, " Oh honey, I thought you knew."

"Nope."

"I guess we just assumed Steve told you or you read about it. She doesn't hold it against you, you know?"

I disagreed.

"She avoided me for six months. She was scared of me Pep, and I don't blame her."

"Okay, I'll admit she may have avoided you, but Natasha doesn't get 'scared'. "

Pepper explained that Natasha felt fear, anger, and love like the rest of us, but showed it differently. One thing Pepper knew for sure is Natasha wasn't one to get intimidated. She had seen too much, had done too much to be afraid of a tall guy with a shiny metal arm.

"Did you say sorry?" she questioned.

"Yeah."

" And what did she say?"

"Not to be."

"See?"

"No."

"We've never seen Natasha so comfortable around anyone, well besides Clint, and you're having a hard time being separated, literally sleeping together."

"What?! No practically the whole team was there."

"Really, because the room looks pretty empty to me?" Pepper argued innocently.

I checked the team's group chat to find a pretty grainy photo of Natasha and I hours before. Tony had gone absolutely nuts. The rest had sent surprised, heart or laughing emojis. Clint was awfully quiet and I had a feeling that I activated his big brother mode.

"Does roach spray work on spiders too?" I asked while pocketing my phone again.

" All I'm saying is that something... _special _is going on. And since you're the newest member of our little family. I just thought you should know."

"Thank you"

"Of course." She closed her eyes.

I debated with myself for a moment. I knew I should let her sleep, but after what she told me I wouldnt be able to let it go.

"Can I tell you a secret ?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, propping her head against her hand.

It's weird how when you're conflicted the strangest things catch your attention. In that case I realized my feet were cold. I hadn't been wearing shoes, and my socks didn't match. One blue. One black. My toes twitched in anticipation of the confession I was about to make.

" It's like I'm having deja vu with her. I've been getting these flashes, almost dreams. Like my mind is trying to tell me something. It's scaring me a little Pep. I've got this weird instinct to protect her. I haven't felt anything like it since I've been back."

Her lips pursed in contemplation, before she lifted and dropped a shoulder.

"Well part of it, like I said, is you just being a good man. And the rest, whatever _it is_, from where I'm standing is not a bad thing. Maybe try not to push yourself so hard about it, time usually has the answers we're looking for."

"Smart and beautiful," I said true to the fake flirtiness I had with only her.." Tony better watch his back."

I kissed her cheek and told her to get some rest.

"I'll tell him." She laughed, " Wake me up when Natasha's out of surgery okay?"

"Sure thing."

I took the chair from Pepper's room and found a bench to drag outside of the operating room.

I sat up camp and tried to follow her advice about not trying so hard. Soon after that my phone rang.

" T'Challa?"

"How are you my friend?"

"I'll be better when the vaccine is here."

"I'm watching the plane leave now. It should be there within a few hours."

"I appreciate it brother, thank you."

"Of course. We will be in touch," the king said affirmatively ending our conversation.

What I loved about T'Challa is when things got serious he was a man of few words, but those words carried more weight than any. It was as good as done.

What we didn't know was at that very second the vaccine was being destroyed by a psychopath on that very flight he watched leave.

I didn't have time to feel relieved, Bruce burst through the operating doors looking frantic.

Worse than frantic, he was turning green.

I jumped up.

"Bruce!? What's going on?"

He was fighting it as hard as he could, with a knee to the ground.

I put a hand on his shoulder, telling him to breathe.

" What happened man?"

He started returning to his normal color

When he finally met my eye line and I saw that he was crying.

I froze up.

"Bruce what happened?" I whispered.

With a shaky voice he answered.

"Her heart stopped."

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**A Cliffhanger?! I know. **

**I Promise I'm not going to kill anybody. Well maybe ?... No... NO! I promise no one is going to die. There's enough suspense and death in the world. I wouldn't dare leave you wondering until the next update. It does make the climax all the more interesting though. **

**Thanks for reading ya Gorgeous Being...Until Next Time. xx**


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